Long Time No See
by XxThe SirenxX
Summary: It was simple, really. She was meant to kill Ciel Phantomhive. Sebastian is meant to protect him. When they encounter one another, things, including their personalities, are bound to clash. Though, what people don't know, is that this isn't the first time the two of them have had a little argument. In fact, it isn't even the first time they've met... Sebastian X OC X ?
1. The Contract

"_Complete your next job as quickly as you can – I want no hesitation. Do what you have to do, and in the manner I have expressed. If everything goes according to plan, you will get your payment, as promised." _

Those were the very words that sent me here. Though to any other passer by or eaves-dropper, they would have simply sounded like the conclusion to a perfectly normal, though be it possibly shady business agreement. Words a simple manager would have spoken to an inferior employee, however, still upholding some ounce of respect. In fact, the very manner in which they were said, and the rather bored yet snobbish tone that was used, reminded me of an old friend of mine. I could actually envision dear, sweet, innocent William's face as those orders rang throughout my head….

"Pfffft…." I stifled back a laugh. Such an image was simply entertainment for my rather tired and irritated mind. It would never occur, of course.

As if **William** would ever ask me to blatantly kill someone.

Well, not without some sort of logical and dull reason, at least.

Yes, those select few words were about as far from a "normal" business agreement as you could get, though it was disguised as such, so it was no fault of those oblivious mortals for not catching on. You see, my dear reader, I am no ordinary employee of any ordinary business. Swap the first "ordinary" with sadistic and the second "ordinary" with deadly, and you're probably about right. Now, don't react like that, my sweet reader – I can see you shiver with repulsiveness at both of those words; you act as though you may catch the plague from simply seeing their very presence. Ah, but you mortals are easily predictable when it comes to manners such as this. You squirm away from whatever is not natural, or that which is deemed "strange" or "different". Which is probably the reason why I hate your kind so much. But, let's get back to me.

The organisation, if it can be called that, which I was currently in the employment of, was known by many once. A group of shady people called The Silencer's, who derived from the outcasts of normal society. Many years ago, when I could still feel such a fleeting thing, the very name would send shivers of fear down one's spine. The common people feared them like they would the devil, whilst the Noble men and woman of London often used our services against one another; they were usually the only ones who could afford our services anyway, for we were not some charity group. Though, for the skills and performance we provided, it was a rather fair deal. But even then, to associate yourself with The Silencer's was to associate yourself with the devil himself. And that description wasn't so far off the mark. Vampires are hellish creatures as well, I'll have you know.

Usually, our business existed of settling petty disputes between noble families and rivals. Whether it was eliminating a brother who was in line to the family fortune, disposing of an abusive partner who quite frankly had it coming to them, or removing rival competition from a specific line of business, the job was usually conducted by one of us. And I'm not lying; it usually was only _one _of us. And that person was usually me.

Nowadays, however, The Silencer's are nothing more than phantom whispers on the wind, an urban legend, the tale mother's tell their children to get them to behave.

"_The Silencer's are always watching you, children. And if you don't behave, they will snatch you away in the dark of the night." _That's what they would say. We became nothing but memories to some, and paranormal beings to another. Some claimed that we never even existed at all. Though this is an utter lie.

Oh, how I remember the good old days, when my fellow assassins and I had the entire city within our grasp, everybody and anybody's soul at our disposal. It was like being a god; having control over everything and everyone. Contract after contract came in, gold was flowing like wine into my pocket and luxury was a daily lifestyle. But it was not to last. One contract – the details of which I will not go into now – went horribly wrong, with absolutely disastrous consequences. Namely the extinction of all but three of The Silencer's, me included. Those of us remaining tried our hardest to rebuild the family we once had, but to no use. We hardly worked together anymore; each of us had gone their separate way after the incident. I sometimes saw the others from time to time, and we would speak of days gone by, or how life had been treating us. Don't get me wrong, our services were still needed, and we were still rather wealthy individually. After all, as long as there are mortals who can still feel emotion, somebody will feel revenge. A thirst that needs to be quenched. But that is a tale for another time.

I shook my head lightly, trying to clear my head of distractions that could compromise the mission. The bitter wind that echoed through the night whipped at my exposed flesh, and yet I welcomed the cool sensation; it helped me regain a sense of reality, and remind me why I was perched like a raven on top of this tree. The emerald bristles of pine partially blocked my vision, but it was a small price to pay for being invisible to any passer by or inquisitive gardener. My silver eyes were trained on the large estate about a half a mile in front of me, and my ever so slightly pointed ears picked up the sound of classical parlour music and party chatter. The estate itself was a rather large and ancient looking structure, yet modern touches had been added here and there. Row upon row of flowers and bushes decorated the garden splendidly, and yet, there was something almost forced about their beautifully tended appearance. In all honesty, I was ever so slightly surprised about the rather good quality this place was in – considering whom the master of this place was, I had doubted he would have been able to maintain it at all. Though, on second thoughts, I doubt it was _he _who actually did the maintaining; more than likely it was his numerous, underpaid servants who went about completing the work. And a fine job they had done of it, too.

Realising I was once again becoming distracted; I sighed, and got up from my sitting position on one of the trees many branches. Crouching in an almost cat-like stance, I bent my legs as far as I could, and then set my sights on the large marble patio on this side of the house. Counting softly inside my head, I got up to three, before I leapt from my hiding spot, soaring clean across the gardens to land without so much as a whisper on the hard floor. My double bladed samurai was wrapped up in fine silk on my back, so that the flawless silver would not make a single sound until it was unsheathed, and thank god for that - the clattering of the metal would surely give me away to suspicion in an environment such as this. Taking a step back to examine the rear of the building, I scanned for a way in. I did not trust any of the doors on the ground floor – it would be more than likely they would lead to an encounter with one of the staff, especially this far back from the main hall. The front doors had been a no go from the start – even imposing as a guest would not have worked due to my appearance. Talking of which, I took a moment to brush a strand of my crystal white hair back, brushing it out my eyes. Biting my bottom lip purely out of habit, I took a guess at the furthest window to the right on the second floor. With a run up, I jumped again, and proceeded to stick my nails into the brickwork for support; landing directly next to a pane of spotless glass.

Risking a look inside, I took note of the furniture, and realised it was some sort of study. Papers were stacked neatly on top of a large desk, book shelves lined the walls, and the place just had a tidy feel to it. Figuring that this would be a good place to start, my hand crept across the glass, before finding a rather weak and shakily placed pane. Smirking, I flexed my hand and pulled my glove off with my teeth, revealing pale flesh and razor sharp long black fingernails. Running my now bare nails along the edges of the glass and the wood holding it in place, I went around all four sides and then, after reapplying my glove, placed a covered palm against it and pushed lightly. The pane popped out of place, yet before it hit the floor, I used my lean and slender body to the best of my ability, and slipped through the gap and into the study, catching the glass before it could move an inch. After gracefully putting it back into place without so much as a single trace of it ever being disturbed, I pulled back my cowl and took a deep breath, taking a moment to warm up from the cool night air – the light material I had on to assist me in my efforts in keeping silent was not that good at keeping my body heat to a maximum.

Strolling casually over to the desk a few feet away, I scanned the pieces of paper that were covered in endless lines of text detailing business deals and social affairs. Not that I doubted myself so much as to make such a mistake, but I let my eyes flicker to the signature at the bottom of each of these pieces of paper – and indeed, they read the name of my target in scripted handwriting. About to take my leave to search the rest of the premises, I went to turn away from the many documents.

But that was when I saw the line of handwriting.

And it caused my entire body to freeze up with shock.

Underneath the signed name of my target was another line – the typical _"Signed in the presence of"_ part of the text. And on the dotted line accompanying that line of text was a very unique scrawl of handwriting – one I had only seen once before, belonging to one man, if you could call him that. That kind of scripted writing would be almost as hard to replicate as it would be to copy currency. But the name was different – from what I could remember, it had be far shorter last time. I couldn't help but whisper it gently, and it felt alien on my lips, like it a foreign language. That single piece of text held so much power over me, yet I shook it off. Surely, it may have been the same handwriting, but it could not belong to the same man? Of course not. My mind was simply playing tricks on me; of course time would have produced someone whose hand flowed the same way his did. And yet, my heart wanted to believe the familiar scrawl belonged to him. My dear, sweet-

A sudden burst of music made me cut my thoughts short and forced me to draw my eyes away from the paper to the study's only door. I could only assume it was time for the final dance, and that meant my time was running short to find my required destination specific to my contract. So, leaving behind the papers with the name that threatened to stir up my past, I went over to the door, only to discover it was locked. Rolling my eyes in frustration – for how protected did a simple study need to be? – I whipped a single silver lock pick out of my pocket and set to work on the door. In a few seconds it was swinging open on its hinges, and I stepped out into a vast and gothic looking corridor. Shutting the door behind me, I made sure to relock it using my skills, and then I set off down the dark hallway, sticking close to the walls and creeping in the shadows.

Ten minutes. That must have been how much time had passed between me leaving the study and being where I was now. And I still wasn't anywhere near my destination. For the love of a reaper, how big did a mansion need to be for a single person! And this was just the second floor alone! I never quite understood the obsession the Noble and wealthy had for having everything they owned being based on size. Their carriages had to be bigger, along with their houses, their horses, and in the case of the Noblewoman, their dresses. It was my bet it was all due to social insecurity, and though it may prove to be a comfort to those better off, it did not make it any less foolish than I believed it to be.

For the billionth time I took a right, and once again came to yet another corridor plagued with shadows. How much further did I have to go? Though I suppose I could consider myself lucky – my time sneaking about could have possibly quadrupled if I had gotten lost. But I had memorised the blueprints of this place when I was first chosen for this assignment some months ago, and the layout was still fresh in my head. Sticking to the shadows, and looking back into my memory, I knew that I was not that far from where I had to be. As I turned left suddenly, I spotted the door embedded in the walls, calling out to me, beckoning me inside. Smirking, I moved as silently as I could across the imported Persian carpet until I was directly next to the door. Hearing the party coming to a close downstairs, I reached into my pocket yet again, before gently twisting the brass handle – yet, it would not open. Not that that surprised me – this was my target's private chambers, of course they would be protected.

Taking the lock pick in my hand, I crouched and faced the keyhole, setting about to work. This lock took a fair bit longer, but not long enough for the sound of the party downstairs to cease. The lock clicked, and the wooden door creaked open; glancing around the hallway to make sure there were no witnesses, I disappeared into the chambers, pulling my cowl back over my head, and locked the door behind me.

With my cowl now covering my features, and the dull colour of my attire, the shadows of the room made me invisible. Scoffing in disgust at the obviously expensive furniture decorating the room, I looked up at the ceiling, past the chandelier at the beams up above. A small smirk appeared on my youthful face, and with a single, graceful jump, and a flex of my hands, I was clinging effortlessly to the ceiling, my fingernails once again embedded in the brickwork. I made sure to keep my cape flat against my back, and my hair out of my vision. My feet were placed firmly against the ceiling, giving me the built up force to pounce if need be. I could start to hear another song playing downstairs, signalling that despite my usually correct assumptions, the ball was not yet over. _Oh well,_ I thought to myself, _Might as well get comfortable._ So, assuring my grip on the ceiling was secure, I closed my eyes and rested my head against my chest.

Now, all I had to do was wait.

The sudden clicking of a lock and the opening of a door caused me to snap my head up and my silver eyes to flicker open. The muscles in my arms and legs automatically tensed, ready to fight off whatever threat had just entered. But then I remembered where I was, and relaxed ever so slightly. Eyeing the door suspiciously, I awaited the entrance of whoever was in the hall with a soft smile of my lips. Although I knew this was the chambers of my target, the visitor could well be a servant, and I would have no trouble disposing of them if I needed to.

However, I was not disappointed, as a darkly dressed boy of around thirteen stepped into the room, navy blue hair perfectly combed and his clothes free of creases. The eye patch on his right eye gave me assurance of who he was, and the sword on my back seemed to burn through the material with a need to feel his blood on its blade. But that thought was quickly pushed out of my head when another figure appeared through the doorway. My breath hitched in my throat, and my ribcage became increasingly tighter around my deceased heart. It was _him. _The signature _had _been his, and his alone. No impostor had stolen his handwriting; there was no coincidence that defied logical possibility. His hair, his skin, the way he held the candelabra so gracefully, and his very aura screamed out familiarity. My head started to ache, and my nerves felt like they were burning with the pure realisation that it was who I thought it was.

That was going to make things harder.

"Your speech tonight at the ball was rather inspirational, Master." Those were the first words I heard out of his lips which were seemingly set in an ever present smirk. His voice was level and calm, but I knew what he hid under that façade. But, then I heard the sentence again in my head, actually concentrating on the words and not on the way his lips moved.

_Master?_ I thought, one of my eyebrows quirking up in puzzlement. Surely someone of his stature had not fallen so low as to humbly serve insignificant mortals? Then I remembered that he was not like me, and the requirement his species had. And, judging by the way his young "Master" seemed to not care about his presence at all, and the look of calmness on his pale face, I guessed I wasn't the only one who knew his little secret. That would sort of make sense, if there was some sort of deal between the two. A lifetime of servitude in exchange for his very soul; that seemed like a fair deal.

But still, he was a _butler_? That wasn't really amounting to his full potential in the slightest.

The young boy who he referred to as Master glanced at him over his shoulder, looking rather bored, his facial features lined with exhaustion.

"You and I both know that it was simply for the public, Sebastian." _Wait, what? Sebastian? What kind of a name was that? It screamed formality._ "I have no intention of doing such things – I'm busy enough as it is." He continued, running a single hand through his hair, pushing it off of his face. "However, if you wish to keep my image up, there would be no harm in you organising the events. It is something you claim to be good at, after all; and it's your job." He added rudely. My eyes blinked rapidly at his tone of voice – how dare he talk to a supernatural being in such a manner as you would a measly peasant! Flickering my gaze over at Sebastian, I noticed that the look on is face was the same as when he had entered the room – calm, collected and at peace. That surprised me a little.

"Of course Master, I shall set to work on the organisation first thing in the morning." My eyes widened even more. He was agreeing to run errands for a boy of no great significance, simply because he was told to do so?

There were a lot of things I never understood about Sebastian. His compassion towards his victims being one of them – the other his attraction to cats. Seriously, for a creature of his kind, that was just plain strange; it almost defied the laws of the universe.

"But, for now, let's get you into bed. You need to be up early to commence business, as there are documents that need to be filled out before noon tomorrow." Rage filled me at the very attitude of this young boy – he came across as a rather ungrateful brat. The Noble blooded never ceased to amaze me with their antics.

The sound of rustling bed sheets made me snap my head back straight, and stop my wandering thoughts and naughty giggles. _Focus, you're on the job! _I mentally scolded myself for becoming distracted for a few minutes, as something could have easily gone wrong, or I could have been spotted, all without my own knowledge. But, thankfully, luck was still on my side as neither the boy, who was know curled up in bed, or Sebastian, who was standing by the door, had noticed me.

"Goodnight Master," The butler said, bowing gently, before turning to leave the room. He paused, looking back for a moment, and dread filled me at the thought he might have sensed me. However, he simply turned away again, before closing the door gently, disappearing into the dark. That surprised me actually – I thought he would have at least carried a candelabra. I knew he did not need one, but it would be highly suspicious if he was wandering around the manor late at night in the shadows. In fact, I could have sworn he came in with one….

No matter, I had a job to do. Loosening my nails out of the brickwork, I strained to hear the breathing of the target below me. It was steady and deep, signalling that sleep had already claimed him. A smirk played at my lips as I pulled my fingernails out all the way, and dropped to the floor without so much as disturbing the dust on the carpet. Creeping over to the bed on which he lay, I studied the form before me. He could be no older than thirteen, as I had already assumed, yet something about him said he was far more mature than his age implied. In that way, he reminded me of myself, the child I was a lifetime ago. And that made me frown slightly; the thought of disposing of someone who might share the same I qualities I once possessed at his age making me feel sorry for the poor boy.

_What a waste_.

However, I wasn't here for sentiment, and so, without further hesitation, I grasped a bottle that was clasped to my belt and pulled it out ever so gently. The liquid inside was a dark green, emerald almost, and it sloshed about quietly as I withdrew it from its place amongst other potions and gadgets. This small bottle, this liquid - this was my real weapon. The sword on my back was both for decoration and for when I ran into trouble that a simple poison would not be enough for. And, unlike some of the other weapons I owned, the sword did have sentimental value.

This little green concoction was of my own design and making, a product of my many years practice at alchemy. With eternity at your disposal, you might as well find a few hobbies to help past the time, correct? Though the making process for this poison was rather simple, the effect it had was deadly. One drop of it in your bloodstream, and it would cause all of your cells to go into a frenzy, turning against each other, and destroying your immune system completely. After that, it poisoned your blood, and with your immune system down, it caused a fever to course through your entire body. After five minutes of slight spasms, the liquid set into an almost jelly like substance, closing of your arteries and causing your blood to stop pumping, killing you much like a heart attack would. After another five minutes, when time was certain you would be dead, the poison would dissolve back to its original state, and self destruct, killing it off. This meant there was never a trace of it even being in your body, giving the morticians and suspicious bystanders the conclusion that the death was of natural cause – your body simply shutting down in your sleep, a heart attack. No mess, no suspicion, and no worries for those who had specified the kill. Competition was eliminated without suspicion due to the circumstances of death, and everything moves on. Business is better for some Noble, and the total amount of gold in my pocket becomes heavier. Easy.

That was what I had planned for the boy in front of me. A nice, peaceful death with no possibility of it being blamed on someone; it would look like he had simply been stolen away in his sleep. No problem at all. So, I let my right hand uncork the bottle softly, and I bent down so I was next to his head. The cowl covering my face prevented my breath from reaching his skin, which could possibly wake him or give away my position. Lining up the bottle with his ear, I bid him farewell out of decency and began to tip the bottle's contents towards his skin.

Then the bloody door opened.

"Apologies Master, I simply forgot my candelabra. If you don't mind I'll-" The butler stared at me with wide eyes, taking in the scene before him. Crimson orbs settled on my creeping form, the possessive stance I had over the boy, and then the bottle in my hand that was continuing to tip the glass towards the face of my victim.

That was all it took for his instincts to kick in.

And the same went for me.

Within a moment, his dark form came launching at me form the doorway. I pulled the bottle away from the boy – its contents were too precious to lose by just letting it drop – and ducked underneath his arms that were flying for my throat. As he soared over me, I rolled underneath him, my legs tucking into my chest tightly. I heard him hit the wall, but he quickly regained his composure and spun around to face me. From my position on the floor, I pulled my legs underneath my self into a crouching position, and waited for his next move – all emotions and memory of him wiped from my mind.

I didn't have to wait long until he struck again.

He came at me again, this time with more precision and grace. Expecting this, I leapt into the air, aiming to go over him and kick him from behind. But after my first move, he must have realised by my speed that I was no ordinary killer, and his reactions were far more suited to someone of my species, now he knew what kind of foe he was up against. His hand reached up to lock itself around my foot, and I yelped in surprise and pain as he pulled me down hard. My face connected with the floor, and I felt my nose crack, but I quickly retaliated as I rolled onto my side, barely being missed by a piece of polished silverware being thrown at where I once lay. Swinging my leg around, I connected with the back of his shin, and caught him off guard, causing him to fall forward. Reaching up a gloved hand, I grabbed his shirt as he came towards me and threw him to the side violently. He went sliding across the floor into a bookcase, and manuscripts and many other pieces of literature went flying around him as the wood shattered upon the impact. My hand flew to my thigh before he had time to move, and pulled a dagger clean out of its sheath. With quick yet careful aim, I sent the blade slicing through the air, sure to meet the head of its target. But at the last moment he moved, pulling himself up, and the knife embedded itself in the woodwork behind him. Growling in frustration, I went to pull another knife from my leg, when he picked up one of the shelves that had come loose from the bookcase and threw it at me. Jumping over it, I thought I had escaped impact, but my foot caught on the edge of the wood and sent me tumbling to the side. Loosing my balance, I fell onto the rug, but not before the knife in my hand went at him. But because of my loss of balance, the throw was slightly messy, and it missed him yet again. Forcing me a smirk as I twisted over on the rug, he took a step forward. My head was sore from the impact, and it only took me a second to recover, but that was more than enough time for him. Going to stand up, I was knocked out of all breath when his body weight came crashing down on top of me. His hands gripped my wrists above my head, and his hips straddled my own, his knees by my head. Smirking, he reached underneath me and grabbed my sword, sheath and all, and pulled it up to his face. After examining it for a few moments with slight admiration, he tossed it away to the side.

I spat at him, yet he only chuckled. "My, my, feisty, aren't we?" He said mockingly, and in reply I simply pulled up my leg to knee him where it hurts. I made impact on something, and he grimaced at my force, before staring at me again. And pleasant surprise filled his eyes as he saw mine were now a rich crimson. "What wonderful eyes you have, my dear. Tell me, what exactly are you?" His question did have some curiosity laced into it, but I didn't care in the slightest. He had me furious, and that was not a good thing. Turning my head to the side in defiance, my nose touched the flesh of his knee. "Well, that's not very polite. I'm simply asking a question. And, considering the position that you are in, I wouldn't think it very wise to argue." His eyes gleamed with violent intentions, and the grip on my wrists hardened. I wasn't going to play to his game, however.

"Won't you at least give me a hint? I would hate to dispose of a creature that might be worth preserving." He cooed, looking down at me as though I were inferior. I scoffed silently. If it was a hint he wanted, it was a hint he would get. At that moment, I opened my mouth, only to reveal a set of razor sharp teeth and a pair of vicious looking canines. Reaching my head forward suddenly, I bit down on the flesh of his leg, feeling my fangs sink deep into his flesh. He yelped in shock, and I pulled away roughly, taking some skin and clothing with me in my mouth. Spitting it at him, I pushed up, and using his confusion to my advantage, kicked him off of me. He went into the wall, cracking it upon impact, and slid down it, hazy eyes looking at me with anger.

I walked over to him softly, and in one swift movement, lifted him up with a hand around his pale throat. He stared at me, coughing slightly. My eyes bore into his, and to this action, his reaction was not what I expected. He smiled. Staring at him in confusion, my grip on him slackened, unaware of what he was smirking about.

"It is not often I find an opponent getting the better of me." He said, voice raspy. "You fight rather well, my dear. It has been far too long since I have had an interesting, and challenging fight. Seeing as I seem to be the one who has lost, may I have the pleasure of knowing the name of such a worthy adversary?" His words cut into me, and the way he spoke suddenly reminded me of whom he was. Only he could make losing sound so graceful, so elegant. Only he could be that polite to an opponent who was trying to kill him. And only he could smirk like that. Letting my eyes roam for a moment, I saw the damage my violence had caused, and instantly felt regret in my stomach. The crimson faded from my eyes, and my grip loosened even more until I was barely holding him at all. I was about to speak to apologise, before another voice sounded throughout the room.

"SEBASTIAN?! WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON!?" A voice yelled to our right. Instinctively, I let my head snap in the voice's direction, and saw the young boy clinging to the bed sheets around his body in fear. I had no idea how long he had been awake for – probably since the start of our fight when his butler hit the wall – but he was now gazing intently at the pair of us with his eyes full of question. Wait a minute…. His eye. The one that had been covered when he came into the room was now on display, the eye patch on a nightstand next to the bed. And I couldn't help but stare. His iris was decorated with some strange pattern that I instantly recognised as the one that was hidden on the back of the demon's hand. It was his mark; which meant I had been right. They _had _made a deal. But who on earth was he shouting his question at? There was no-one called Sebas….Oh no. He meant _Sebastian_. That was when I remembered.

Sebastian. Fight. I was fighting Sebastian.

_Damn it…._

Just after I had realised my mistake, I felt a gloved hand wrap itself around my throat and swing me around into the wall. My brief moments of distraction had been more than long enough for him to get the upper hand in this situation, as could be seen by my frame now being firmly up against the brickwork. Sebastian's face was but an inch from mine, and his eyes were glowing brightly in the dark.

"I apologise for the disturbance Master, but I caught this person here trying to slip you some poison. An assassin no doubt, judging by the way she is dressed, most likely hired by one of your many jealous rivals." He leant in closer, smirking, before adding another sentence. "Although, I wonder where they found a Vampyre…"

"Well? Sebastian, dispose of them!" Ciel said, a little calmer now that he saw his demonic butler had everything under control. He was glaring at me as though I were some filthy peasant, which I took as an offence. Squirming under the butler's grip, I was gasping slightly for air. Sebastian continued to stare at me, and I got a rather unsettling feeling, which was increased by his next words.

"If you don't mind, Master, I would much like the see what the assassin looks like before I dispose of them. They did put up a good fight, after all, and it would seem like such a waste to not know the identity of such a worthy opponent." Sebastian's breath tickled my flesh, and I heard Ciel grunt in the corner.

"Very well. I witnessed most of your little "dispute", and she did almost seem to match you with her skills. I would be lying if I didn't say I was also slightly intrigued." His young eyes were still fixed on me, but it was not him I was worried about. It was the man – or being – in front of me that was causing me distress.

"Thank you, Master." He replied with a soft nod, and then, with his free hand, he reached up to grasp my cowl gently between his fingers. Smirking, he gazed at me again, pulling me slightly away from the wall, before pulling down the material harshly. I yelped softly as he caught some of my hair, but regained my composure when I saw the way he looked at me. My crystal white hair spiralled down my shoulders, with my gleaming silver eyes practically glowing in the moonlight. The porcelain flesh that covered the trained muscles of my body glistened with sweat as it dripped down my brow, giving my skin a waxy sheen to it. My face was not one to be forgotten, and now the two people who I least wanted to see it – my victim and my lost love – were gazing at me intently. Ciel had an expression of slight puzzlement on his face, taking in my ghostly appearance. When I gave him a polite nod, and tore my eyes away from him to Sebastian, I instantly regretted it.

The look of hunger and amazement in his eyes was too much for me to bear. I saw the disbelief etched onto his features, and I couldn't help but chuckle at his rare lack of speech. He stuttered softly, before swallowing deeply, and finally finding some words,

"Y-you…." He whispered, so quietly it was only because of my heightened senses that I managed to pick it up. A gloved hand slowly found its way to my face, and brushed some stray hair out of my eyes. "I-it's y-you…."

Smiling softly, I placed my own hand on top of the one cradling my face, and leant slightly into his touch. I fixed my silver eyes onto his now dying crimson ones, and spoke softly.

"Hello _Sebastian_, my sweet…."

Then my previously dormant hand connected sharply with his face.

A/N: Seeing as this is the first piece of work I have ever posted online, reviews are much appreciated. I will accept constructive criticism, but please, no hating in the comments. I do not own Kuroshitsuji, or its characters, but I do own Esmeralda Mandetta and the plot of this fanfiction. Thank you for taking your time to read this, and if you enjoying the story so far, why not check out my other Fics?

(P.S: Any person caught hating on Sebastian will be set on by a pack of raging Fangirls. You have been warned...)


	2. Sticky Situation

"Are you being serious?"

The voice of the young Earl rang throughout the study, and it was only accompanied by the endless pattering of rain that beat down on the decorative glass panes. He held his head in one of his hands, resting his elbow on the desk in front of him. The other hand continuously tapped in rhythm against the polished black wood that was covered in stacked papers and quills. A look of utter disbelief was set on his mature face, and his single showing eye simply stated that he could not comprehend what he had been told.

"As serious as Sebastian is about cats." I replied, smirking widely, to which the only response from Ciel was him groaning. My possibly annoying sense of humour had served me well for most of my existence, and it was not going to leave me now. The sound of extremely discreet chuckling from behind me was heard by my sensitive ears, and I realised that Sebastian himself still appreciated my optimistic and slightly childish view. He would never admit it of course.

His knew name still felt strange on my tongue, but I had to admit, it suited him rather perfectly. It screamed formal, snobby, and just plain out boring, yet with a hint of charm. The way I knew him, that summed him up to a T. Of course, before meeting me, he had probably had many other names, but I had to say, I preferred this one the most, even more over the one he had when we were first acquainted. It already felt rather natural; though I wondered if there was a story behind it, like everything else to do with him…

"Are you alright, my Lord? You look as though you are struggling to understand what Miss Mandetta has told you. Would you like her to repeat it?" A single gloved hand fell onto my shoulder, yet I did not tense. There was no point in acting hostile – Sebastian would not think about hurting me, not now that he knew my identity. As though reading my mind, I felt his velvet fingers begin to massage the skin of my shoulder very softly; enough so that my heightened senses picked it up, but not enough for his Master to notice.

"I'm fine, Sebastian." Ciel replied, waving the comment off. He groaned again, running a hand through his dark navy blue hair, his eyes closed in thought. "Ugh, you would have thought that after making a contract with you Sebastian, I would believe anything. But this is just, just….." His sentence drifted off into nothing, and another yet more playful smirk tugged on my lips. This boy had dealt with demons and murderers, yet he could not trust my words.

Composing himself, the Earl sat upright in his chair, holding himself like a noble of his standard should. Brushing a strand of stray hair from his eyes, Ciel set his gaze upon me, folding his hands on top of each other in a regal position. I could see that words were coming to his mind, but he could not find the right ones to say.

"Just once more, please, Miss Mandetta." He finally said, all disbelief gone from his face for the moment. Instead, a look of determination was carved into his features, as though he had set himself the target of seeing through all of my horrible, nasty, deceiving lies.

_He really was quite foolish, wasn't he?_

"Oh, fine, I'll say it again, just for you." I spoke in the most mocking tone I could manage, and yet I could still feel the smirk of Sebastian though I could not see it. The boy may have been his Master, but that simply meant that Sebastian himself could not insult the Earl, as much as he may want to. That was going to be my job during my stay here, obviously. "Like I've already said; I'm part of a mythological underground network of Vampire Assassins that the nobles of this city often use against each other. My employer was given the task of having you eliminated, and I was chosen for the job. Being over five hundred years old, it would have been an easy feat. However, I was not counting on the fact you had Sebastian here as your personal butler. Had I been aware of that fact, I would have bought a kitten with me to distract him with. We're old friends, him and I." The hand on my shoulder tightened, but my smirk stayed on my face. I continued despite having said everything; I felt I had to simplify it for the boy.

"In short, _Mr. Phantomhive_," my mocking tone returned "I was sent here to kill you. Put you down, dispose of you, remove competition, however you want to put it. You were meant to die tonight, and I was meant to be the one who's hand it happened by."

The boy just stared at me blankly.

"Any more questions?"

An oak door flew open, slamming against the wall, and I was shoved both harshly and unceremoniously into a room that I had no intension of staying in. Flailing my arms in a desperate attempt to keep myself upright, I succeeded in keeping my dignity – that was until my legs were swept out from underneath me by an unknown source, and I face palmed the carpeted floor.

"Ever the gentleman, Sebastian…" I growled into the thickly scented rug, my words almost going unheard, yet I still got a response; a low, throaty chuckle that made my lips twitch in annoyance. Rolling over, my eyes met with Sebastian's smirking form, his eyes shut in some look of innocence that did not at all fit him. Slowly, as though his butler façade was returning, he reached out a gloved hand and held it in front of my face, offering me assistance in standing.

_Yeah, right, like I was going to fall for that. _

Groaning as my knees clicked, I forced my aching body to stand, brushing down my creased clothes. My fingers snagged on a few tares and holes, but other than that I was unscathed. Glancing over at Sebastian, my anger at the familiar demon bubbled at the sight of his flawless attire. He had gotten through our little fight without as much as a flaw on his clothes. A few cuts were on his face, along with a few bruises beginning to show, but no, his clothes were absolutely perfect. Unbelievable.

"I really don't understand why I have to stay here Sebastian. You and I both know that if I wish, I can just leave here whenever I wish to. By putting me in here, you're just putting some brick in my way." Trying as hard as I could to sound confident, I put a hand on my hip, jutting it out to the side. In all honesty, I was feeling ever so slightly uneasy. My initial plan had gone horribly wrong, and I was now trapped in a confined space with a demon butler who could kill me if he wished – I wouldn't go down without a fight, but there was still that slim possibility that what I had done in the past may have some consequence on the subject of my existence.

And it wasn't like I could just go back to The Silencer's with a dry blade and the Earl still breathing – not even a recruit of my standard could get away with letting a contract this big go unfulfilled. It wasn't often such a thing happened; as I mentioned before, our organisation was of the highest standard, so when such things did occur, the results and consequences enforced upon the unsuspecting failure of an assassin were usually….. gruesome. Basically, I was in stalemate – either stay here and have the probability of being killed constantly waving at me from afar or go back to my fellow killers and have death greet me eagerly like an old friend.

A knowing smirk was plastered arrogantly on Sebastian's face, and that worried me slightly. He knew exactly what was going on in my head, or at least, that's what came across. He knew that any chance of survival or being unharmed if I left was slim, and that I had no choice but to comply to his Master's wishes. He knew I was powerless, and he liked this position oh-so-much. I, on the other hand, not being the most submissive person in the world, hated it. And he knew that too.

"You're not exactly in a good position to argue, are you, _Miss Mandetta_?" The words that left his mouth did so in a sarcastic drawl, my name leaving his lips with just a hint of menace.

"Oh, stop boring me with formalities, _Sebastian_." I snorted, crossing my arms. "You and I have been through enough together – you don't have to keep the whole 'butler' act up for me." He chuckled again in reply, smirking even wider.

"Of, course, _Esmeralda_." Glaring at him, I turned around sharply, taking in my surroundings with a hint of surprise and a raised eyebrow as I continued to speak.

"What's with the new name, anyway? It suits you, don't get me wrong, but it seems to plain and dull for someone like you." Looking over at him as I observed the room, I frowned. "Shouldn't a demon take such a thing as an insult?" Again, with that damned smirk. _Was that his answer to everything? _

"Would you prefer to call me by the name you are familiar with, my sweet? I do remember the way it left your lips being rather…_delicious_." I rolled my eyes, examining my nails.

"In all honesty Sebastian, I've been had so many since you I can't even remember it. You don't really think that the last name to leave my lips was yours, do you?" At this he frowned slightly, his expressionless mask gone for the briefest of moments, allowing me to see that just for a moment I had struck a nerve. Smirking, I forced my attention away from teasing the butler, and back to the room. He had actually trapped me in a rather appealing room. Dark purple, almost black drapes covered the windows, preventing the light from the moon being seen inside, though the light from the iron chandelier above should suffice. A bed of darkened wood was pushed into the corner, covered in royal purple satin sheets. Next to that was a wooden bed side table of the same colour, on top of which was a silver candelabra. In the opposite corner was what appeared to be a wardrobe, probably adorned with clothes that cost almost as much as the room itself. The mirror on the wall was positioned at head height, and was decorated with golden swirls that screamed expensive. All in all, the room was actually, as much as I hated to admit it, rather appealing to my tastes.

That made me very suspicious.

"Why such a pretty room, Sebastian?" I asked, both curious and slightly insulted. If the Earl though he could win me over with some pretty trinkets, he had read me all wrong. Luxury like this was a daily occurrence for me – the only difference was the location.

"Must there be a reason to treat our guests with kindness, Esmeralda?" Throwing him a look over my shoulder, a small frown tugged on my lips.

"There should be when one of them just tried to kill your master." Was my retort, and I noticed his eyes flickering pink for just a moment. But then, he was back to his stoic usual self. A hand placed behind his back politely, he made his way over to me, posture perfect and rehearsed, addressing me as he would nobility; an act that quickly began to bore and annoy me.

"Firstly, the reason for your rather…. Exquisite accommodations, at least for someone like you and in your position, is because my master is interested in you, and wishes to treat you in a way that might result in you trying not to kill him again. He wishes to construct a civil relationship with you, despite the circumstances – you could prove to be useful to him." He raised a gloved hand to his mouth, and delicately bit down on the tips of the material. In a fluid movement, he had pulled it off gracefully, and proceeded to do the same with the other one, before he began speaking again. "Secondly, my master saw your little 'display' and now, due to your little revelation, he knows what you are. As a result of that, he wants me to keep an eye on you, and for that reason, I have conveniently placed you just down the hall from my own room." He took a stride towards me, smirking more softly now, and pushed a stray piece of hair from my face. "And lastly," he continued, his voice no more than a whisper, "someone like you deserves the best things available." His finger stroked the outline of my cheek bone, and his ruby eyes were locked on mine; though, I noticed they were gleaming slightly at such close proximity.

"Flatterer," I snarled, slapping his hand away and taking a step back. His eyes remained on my ever so slightly smaller body, yet I broke his gaze when I walked over to the wall, reaching behind my head to grip the handle of my sword and remove it from its place. But my hand only met with air, and I a sudden wave of panic swept through my body. An empty feeling coursed through me, and a deep frown appeared on my face. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, my feet span round of their own accord and forced me to face Sebastian, who was smirking once again. I was about knock that smirk right off of his porcelain face.

"What did you do with my sword, Sebastian?" I growled, trying to keep my temper. Without that weapon, I felt like a small animal – weak, defenceless, and easy to take advantage of. Though I hardly ever used it, what with my strength being my main asset, it had been with for so many years that it almost felt like a part of me. And it had been a gift from…. Someone special.

"Oh, don't worry about it, it is perfectly safe. I picked it up from my master's room floor after our little fight, and I can assure you, it is in safe hands. No damage will come to it, although," he paused, looking up at me from under his messy raven hair, "I did not know it meant that much to you." Mumbling several curses under my breath, I sent him a death glare, before my hands reached up to my head and ran themselves through my hair, the tension and stupidity of this whole situation only just beginning to effect me.

"This is unbelievable," I groaned, falling face first onto the bed. Breathing in, I took note that the sheets smelt of lavender, showing that this was, as Sebastian suggested, a guest room of the highest standard. Royal colours, decorative furniture, and now scented sheets? _Ugh,_ _nobles…_

"What is, my sweet? The rather unusual situation you have found yourself in, or the simple fact of seeing me after all these years?" Without even looking up, I knew the _butler_ was now standing right besides me, and the shifting of the sheets and added weight of another body on the bed was proof of my suspicions.

"Both," I grunted without looking up, my face buried in the sheets, the flowery smell burning my nose by this time. There was a laugh from next to me, and I tilted my head to the side, one eye peeking out from under my cascading hair. Sebastian was smiling, not smirking, and his eyes were glowing pink, though I saw no menace.

"Oh, you will be amusing to have around the place, Esmeralda." He stopped laughing when he spotted my confused expression, and his smirk was back. "What, you didn't think that you were going to be leaving anytime soon, did you?" Another chuckle escaped his lips as he rose from the bed, and walked away towards the door. "My master has spared your life by not handing you over to the authorities; in exchange he expects a few things from you." He spoke without looking back at me, though when he reached the door, he spared me a glance. "You start at six o'clock. All the clothes you need are in the wardrobe, and another maid will be in to assist you to the kitchen, where I will brief you on your duties. We need someone like you, Esmeralda. It will be fun having you around for a while." And with that, he closed the door.

Suspicion aroused within my head, and I sat up on the bed. What duties? What maid? And what clothes? Did he expect to just go along with this without asking questions. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I stood up and went over to the wardrobe, wondering what its contents were. Was I going to be paraded around in a fancy dress, maybe? Or take care of important business such as I usually did? Either job seemed like something that would fit to my standards. Grasping the handles, I pulled both doors open, wanting to look at my new 'uniform', as I saw it. My eyes adjusted to the dark space inside, and my smirk fell to an expression of utter anger. There were no fancy dresses. Nor were there any clothes suited to a person of business. In actual fact, there were no clothes fitting of a noble inside at all. But there were clothes.

_**Servant's **_clothes.

Oh, Sebastian was so dead.

Sebastian walked the lone corridors back to his Master's study without the use of a candle, shrouding himself in darkness. His footfalls were the only sound that echoed through the shadows, just as his glowing eyes the only source of light. Reaching his desired destination, Sebastian knocked twice on the door quickly, waiting for his master's reply.

"Come in," the voice answered, tiredness laced within its depths. Turning the handle, the butler entered the room, his usual smirk once again on his face and his butler act returning as he stepped onto the imported rug. He admitted he had let it slip in front of Esmeralda, but he could not help it. It had been like the pair of them had been transported back in time.

"Master, Miss Mandetta is in her chambers, and has agreed to serve the Phantomhive household to return her debt to you." He lied smoothly, knowing his Master would believe him as long as he said what he wanted to hear. Though she had not directly said it, Sebastian knew Esmeralda would comply with what he had and would ask of her – not to return the debt she had to the Earl, but to return the debt she had to the butler of the estate. And it wasn't exactly like she had a choice either; that Sebastian was certain of.

"Well, that's a start." Ciel replied, resting lazily in his leather chair. There was an expression of confusion clear on the boy's face, and Sebastian took notice of it. He guessed it was probably regarding their new guest.

"Is there something wrong, My Lord?" Sebastian asked, bowing slightly. The Earl glanced up at him from underneath heavy eye lids, and he raised an eyebrow. Pushing himself into an upright position, Ciel stared at his butler, trying best to read his stone-like expression, but he once again failed to do so. Sighing, he spoke his thoughts.

"I've been wondering, how do you know someone like Miss Mandetta? What business would a demon butler have with a vampire assassin?" Sebastian could hear the question in his master's voice, but he was not at least surprised by it – the question he was asking was very legitimate. The curiosity was only natural in this situation.

"It is a rather complicated tale, My Lord; one that would be easier to tell with Miss Mandetta present. It takes place many years ago, and is a rather amusing yet interesting story, if I may say so myself. But I can assure you, she and I are firm acquaintances." He bowed his head, and then added in no more than a whisper, "_**Very **_firm."

Ciel did not heard Sebastian's added comment, so he did not say anything more. He was sure that he would learn more when Miss Mandetta was more co-operative. She and Sebastian may be good friends, but that did not mean he would not keep an eye on her. She was still a threat – at least, for the moment.

"Very well Sebastian." Yawning, Ciel rose from his seat, and strolled over to the door, walking past his butler without so much as a second glance. "I wish to go to sleep now," he said, hands behind his back. "And make sure there are no more….interruptions."

Sebastian smirked, his eyes glowing pink in the shadows.

"Yes, My Lord."


	3. Meeting The Servants

A burst of light shining onto my face woke me suddenly from my sleep. My body automatically knew this was far too early for me to rise, and, thinking it must be an intruder sent to finish me off, my arm flew over my back to grab at my sword. But it wasn't there. Cursing, realising they must have somehow disarmed me, my suddenly crimson eyes darted around the room, until they set themselves down upon a form standing by the dresser. Instincts kicking in, my legs threw me out of bed, alerting the attacker to my presence. They turned around, glasses shining as they caught the light, and spoke.

"Ah, Miss, I see your awa-AHH!" They squealed as I leapt across the room at them, barrelling into them at such a speed that their legs came out from beneath them, sending us both tumbling to the floor in a heap. Straddling them, I raised my hand, ready to strike. Fear overtook the person – or, should I say the girl - beneath me, as they began to shake, and I smirked. Why send someone so weak and easily broken to kill me? They whimpered, but not before managing to call for help.

"S-Seb-Sebastian!"

My body tensed, and my eyes blinked rapidly. The animal in me receded at her words, and as my mind recollected the events of last night, I found myself lowering my arm. Quickly realising what I had done, I jumped off of the girl beneath me, and backed up away from her. She pushed herself upright when she saw my form moving away, yet her body still shook. A slight blush of embarrassment came onto my face, and I rubbed awkwardly at the back of my neck.

"Uh….I….ummm…" My mouth moved, but no sentences even relating to English came out. The girl continued to stay on the floor, but she soon stopped her shaking, replacing it with a quiet whimper instead. Being in such an advantaged position, I took this time to look her over quickly. A strange hue of cherry red hair was done up in two pigtails, giving her a rather childish aura. Thick round glasses adorned her face, hiding whatever coloured eyes from my line of vision. Dressed in a simple maids outfit and boots, my mind came to the conclusion that she was the maid Sebastian had spoken of last night. Poor thing; first time she meets me and I attack her like a raging lunatic.

In an unexpected moment of kindness, I find my feet moving of their own accord, and bringing me to a stop in front of the girl. By my guess, she can't be that old – judging from appearance, I'd say somewhere in her late teens, at the most, boarding on twenty. Trying the best I could to remain civilised, and gather what dignity I still had after attacking an unsuspecting victim, I put out my hand, bending down slightly. Her head turned to stare at my hand, then at me, then at my hand, then at me. She didn't know if I was bluffing – smart girl.

"Sorry about that," my voice breaking the silence made her jump back a bit in surprise. "I'm just not used to being snuck up on – my apologies for attacking you, Miss." Biting back my tongue, I decided to be as kind as I could in this situation, hoping she would forgive me. If I wanted that Ciel brat to let me go anytime soon, I couldn't have his servants running around saying I'd attacked them. That would not help my case at all.

Hesitantly, she slowly took my hand in hers, and I raised her to her feet. She brushed down her uniform quietly, and then looked up through her glasses to study my face. It was then that I realised my hood was not up, and my personal defences kicked in. The truth was, I was not very confident or comfortable in the way that I looked – crystal white hair and glowing purple eyes don't always make the greatest first impression in modern day society. Unless you have a job which involves freaking people out, and as an assassin, I sort of did; and in those cases having a bit of a strange appearance just added to the effect. Still, I wasn't comfortable with people staring, especially people I did not know, as was demonstrated when I dropped the apology act and got down to business.

"I presume you are the maid Sebastian spoke of, yes? Have you come to assist me?" The added edge to my voice would hopefully get across to her that she should stop looking at me the way she was, and it did. Clasping her hands in front of her, she smiled slightly.

"Yes, Miss, oh yes I am! I'm Mey-rin, Miss!" Her sudden energy surprised me slightly; she had brushed off my attack like it was nothing. Did this kind of thing happen to her all the time? "I'm here to help you with your clothes – Mister Sebastian said that you might have trouble getting them on by yourself. He then wants me to escort you downstairs, to do your duties." Her smile widened, and she raised her hands to rest under her chin in anticipation, probably waiting for my answer.

"Let's get to it then. It is probably wise after last nights events that I don't keep Sebastian waiting." I sighed, placing my head in my hands and rubbing my temples. Mey-rin looked at me with confusion clear on her face, and I could only assume with a raised brow that she had no idea what I was on about. Either she didn't hear the ruckus last night coming from Ciel's room, or Sebastian had given me a rather fool-proof and well thought of cover story. I honestly expected the latter.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I snapped, growing impatient at the maid's constant staring and oblivious expression. She stood up straight suddenly, and ran over to the closet, pulling out the maid's uniform. Groaning again, I began to slip out of thee clothes I had slept in rather regrettably. These servant clothes were going to be very uncomfortable. I just knew it.

Sebastian wouldn't have it any other way.

Walking along the Phantomhive Manner's corridors in daylight was not nearly as intimidating as walking through them under cover of darkness. In fact, it just added to the distaste I felt for the place; the wretched sunlight allowed for me to see every single expensive trinket and imported piece of furniture I possibly could, fuelling my feeling of disgust for nobles. Pulling down at my dress, my face twisted into one of pure anger. Petticoats, stockings, garters – all of the clothing currently on my body was heavy, uncomfortable, and totally unnecessary. And, albeit it a bit distasteful for me to say, it was a bit too modest for my liking. Not that I liked to go parading around my flesh, but a bit of 'show not tell' would have been fine in my eyes. Then again, such garments of clothing might only encourage Sebastian further. That was exactly what I didn't want.

Once or twice I nearly lost my footing, the brown boots on my feet being rather tight and pinching at my skin. The heels were a bit unstable, and I mentally wondered how long it would take me to get used to them. If I planned on staying, that is. Looking over to Mey-rin, I decided to break the silence that hovered over us to speed up the passage of time on our journey through the household.

"So – Mey-rin, was it? – what exactly do you do here, out of curiosity?" The words came out polite and welcoming, which was partly what I felt. The girl had done nothing to cause harm to me so far, and therefore, I saw no reason to treat her like the commoner she was. If anything, she might help in my efforts to escape, were it to come to that. Mey-rin's head perked up at the sound of her name, and she looked at me once again with those owl-like glasses.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm just a house maid Miss. Nothing special, no I'm not." A flicker of amusement crossed my face for a brief moment at her odd speaking habit, but it was then gone when I cleared my throat, becoming serious.

"So, is there nothing interesting you can tell me about the butler, Sebastian?" At my words her cheeks flushed pink, and her lips set into a tight line. She began to fidget with her hands, playing with her apron.

"Oh-uh-M-Mis-Mister Sebastian? H-He's head b-butler of the household. Supervises all of us servants, y-yes he does." Again, I found her way of speech rather unusual, but it was her expression that had my lips twitching up into a smirk that time. I recognised that look on her face all too well. It was the look I had had on my face when I first encountered Sebastian, all those years ago. Flustered, bashful, breathless. The butler had such an effect on the opposite sex – only with a hell of a lot of practice did I finally manage to be able to ignore it. Well, mostly.

"Oh, ok then." I replied, logging away that little detail about Mey-rin for use later. Until then, I decided to spare her of any further embarrassment by changing the subject. "You mentioned other servants; who are they?"

"Oh, there's Finnian – he's the gardener – and Bard – he's the cook. They've both heard about you, the new maid, and are excited to meet you, yes they are." She smiled at me softly, and I couldn't help but return the gesture, just for civil purposes.

"Again, I apologise Mey-rin, for what happened earlier. It's just-"

"Oh, don't worry about that, Miss! All water under the bridge, yes it is!" Another smile graced my lips, and I couldn't help but chuckle. She was indeed a strange human. Though, I believed she could be useful.

She turned around to face me, continuing to walk, but doing so backwards. How she could do so in these heels, I had no idea.

"Sorry Miss, but I never asked for your name. May I know what it is?" Smirking, I nodded.

"You may. My name is Esmeralda. Esmeralda Mandetta." Truthfully, I did not want my name to be revealed, but I knew that Sebastian was bound to tell everyone anyway, so I though it best if I beat him to it – even if it aided in my efforts to appear….friendly. Mey-rin's hands shot up to her face, and cradled it softly. She was smiling wide and her cheeks were red.

"Oh what a pretty name, yes it is! It suits someone as pretty as you!" Her comment made my eyebrows raise, and I subconsciously pushed back a strand of my hair that had been forced into a tight ponytail; even so, it still ended just above my waist. I could feel an ever so slight blush come to my cheeks, but I quickly waved it off.

"Thank you Mey-rin. Your compliment is most appreciated." I said, forcing a smile. _Good god, with all this formal talk, I'm beginning to sound like William. Speaking of which, I wonder what he would make of this situation…._

"Gah!"

I was snapped out of my thoughts by the sound of Mey-rin yelping, and I snapped my attention towards her. She was flailing her arms, trying to keep her balance after apparently tripping on something. _Again, probably due to these awful shoes_. Behind her, a pedestal of some description was teetering unsteadily, the vase on top of it wobbling back and forth. Mey-rin tried to steady herself by pushing against the pedestal, causing it to fall backwards, and the vase on top to come crashing to the ground. What happened next surprised even me.

I did not know if it was due to the dress bringing back a sense of familiarity, or the fact that my mind knew that Sebastian was somewhere in the building, but an age old instinct awoke in me right there and then. Without even thinking, I found myself bolting across the open space in the blink of an eye, my supernatural speed giving me enough time to reach the vase. Catching it a foot off from the floor in my pale hands, I wiped it free of any possible scratches with my sleeves, and saw my own reflection in its round surface. Studying the ornament for any more damages, my own mind did not even register what I was doing until someone coughed behind me. Turning my head slightly, I spotted Mey-rin standing there with a look of awe on her face, hands once again holding her head, mouth agape.

"H-how…..how did you….?" The question drifted off into nothing, leaving it hanging unfinished in the air. Looking back at the vase, I noticed my reflection properly, for the first time. Yet it was not my own. I saw a young girl's face, her lips plastered into an expression of utter joy, smiling like there was no tomorrow. Two gleaming eyes shone with the intensity of the stars, and long hazel coloured hair framed her pretty face. A single back ribbon held back her hair, keeping her pale face clean of obscurities. Blinking quickly and shaking my head, I looked back at the vase again, to see my own purple eyes, snow coloured hair, and sharp face. Sighing slightly, I turned the vase over in my hands gently, careful not to drop it.

"I've had…..experience in this kind of work before." My gaze flickered behind me to Mey-rin. "Call it second nature." I added, smiling.

"Well, it's a good thing you caught it, yes it is! That's one of Master's most expensive ornaments, a-"

"1670 Parisian hand painted French vase. Valued at a rather pricey sum, I believe." My voice cut her off, saying the information she was about to give me. Smirking at her puzzled expression, I answered her silent question. "I've seen one of these before." She just continued to stare at me in complete admiration.

"Mister Sebastian said you would be a good maid, but I never expected someone this good, no I didn't!" She squealed, clapping her hands together. "Oh, what until the others meet you, they'll like you, oh yes they will!"

I stood upright in front of the servants, waiting patiently as Sebastian finished his little speech. Walking with one hand tucked behind his back, his other gloved hand was being used to gesture back between me and the servants. "Everyone, this is Miss Esmeralda Mandetta. She will be helping out at the manner for a prolonged period of time. You will treat her with respect as you would a guest, and answer to her as you would me. You will only address her as 'Miss' or 'Ma'am', do I make myself clear?" The servants nodded in response. I didn't know why Sebastian was giving me such privileges, treating me like a noble. Unless he thought buttering me up and giving me everything I demanded would have some sort of effect on me, in which case he was horribly wrong. Sebastian went on, discussing meaningless things that my mind chose to ignore. Crossing my arms, I sighed softly. "If I catch anyone disrespecting her, your punishment will be rather severe." Sebastian finished walking along the line of three servants, and turned around to face me. Subtly, he winked at me, and my reaction was to scoff at him. His sweet and kind words were not going to get him anywhere; I hoped he was aware of that. _Well, at least he was leaving me with some form of dignity by giving me some sort of impression on the servants._

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss!" A young boy said, bounding up to me. He had shaggy blonde hair held back by a few clips, and such an angelic and young face that on first glance he could be mistaken for a girl. He could be no more than a few years older than the Master himself, but the childish glint I saw in his baby blue eyes told me that even if he was, he didn't act his age. Judging by his attire – the straw hate around his neck, the muddy boots, and the creased trousers and shirt – I guessed what his position in the household was.

"You must be Finnian, the gardener?" I asked, and the young boy nodded.

"Though most people just call me Finny, Miss." Smiling softly, I held out my hand for him to shake; such was the civility I had been raised with and had come to expect. He stared at it for a few moments, before cautiously taking a hold of it, though rather limply, as though he were afraid I might break under his touch. Slowly, he raised it to his face as he bowed, and placed a chaste and gentle kiss to my knuckles. He then looked up at me with questioning eyes, wondering if he had done the right thing. "Sorry M-Miss, was that rude of me? It's just that…. I've seen Sebastian do that to pretty woman before – though none of them were as p-pretty as y-you." He mumbled, staring down at the floor. A gentle laugh escaped my lips, and I caught sight of Sebastian standing in the corner. He was glaring at Finnian, and I could tell his eyes were just about to start glowing pink. So, too annoy him to a greater extent, I decided to do some flattering of my own.

At my laugh, Finnian had looked up at me with wide eyes, believing my amusement to be aimed at him. Though mortals did amuse me to no end, it was in fact his shyness and copying of Sebastian that had made me chuckle. His gaze fell back to the floor in shame and hurt, but I simply tapped him gently on the chin, encouraging him to look at me.

"Had it been Sebastian who had planted a kiss upon my hand, I would have reacted differently. But I cannot deny a compliment from someone as sweet and handsome as you, Finnian." I said, the words rolling off of my tongue easily. None of it was true, of course – the boy was sweet yes, but far too childish and young for my tastes. Plus, he was human, and I tended to stay away from those kinds of relationships. The young boy smiled bashfully, his cheeks turning scarlet, and he rose, stepping to the side of me. I spotted Sebastian for a moment in my line of vision, and I could see he was frowning deeply, his brow creased in confusion and quite possibly jealousy.

Another male stepped in front of me, though he was much taller than Finnian, but still had blonde hair, though it was a fair bit darker. A cigarette hung loosely in his mouth, and I could smell smoke on him. Taking in his uniform, which consisted of a long white apron and shirt, I presumed he was the chef.

"A pleasure to meet you too, Miss. My name's Baldory, though, like Finny, people usually just shorten my name to Bard. I'm the chef of the household." Swiftly, and without waiting for my permission, Baldory swept down and captured my hand in his rough and calloused one, and after removing the cigarette momentarily from his hand, planted a not-so-gentle kiss on my knuckles. I could tell he just though himself as a womaniser. He glanced up at me, and I smiled gently back. He took that as a good sign as stood, smirking.

"Very nice to meet you, Baldory; I look forward to working with you." He continued to smirk, and I once again caught sight of Sebastian. He was now glaring at me, but I just smiled sweetly and innocently back.

"I take it that is everyone? I'm already familiar with Mey-rin," I said, glancing her way and nodding my head in acknowledgement, to which her response was to smile back. "And Sebastian, you and I are acquainted." At this, I noticed the servants' gaze flicker back between myself and Sebastian, though they did so rather quickly.

"Yes, Esmeralda, that is everyone. Now, if you'll follow me, I'll show you your duties." Sebastian replied, growling slightly. At his tone of voice, I noticed Finnian and Baldory gulp, whilst Mey-rin shuddered a bit. I, however, pretended to take no notice of it.

"Good," I answered, watching him walk over to the door leading from the room. He opened it without a sound, and looked back over his shoulder at me, presumably waiting for me to follow. I did so with a spring in my step, flashing him a smile as I walked past him. He grumbled something under his breath, and then, before shutting the door behind him, sent the other servants a glare.

"Get back to work you three," he barked, and they all jumped, before scrambling to get out of the room through the back door, not wanting to be trapped in a corridor with an angry butler. Sebastian sighed whilst I waited for him up ahead, smirking in the shadows that the various ornaments cast.

"Are you going to do your job or what?" I asked, tapping my foot impatiently and smirking. His eyes flashed dangerously pink, yet he simply sighed again, before walking passed me, allowing me to trail his footsteps like a lost dog. I could tell from his behaviour that, although he may not admit it, he was ever so slightly jealous of my little display of affection back there to Baldory and Finny. But what else was a simple, pretty little thing like me to do?

Here I was, in an unfamiliar place, all on my own, with no one to help me, aside from two rather handsome males who I could tell were itching to win my attention. I could either play nice with them, or tease Sebastian a little bit more by denying him everything he wanted, and giving it to the two humans who he and I both knew were beneath him.

I was going to go with the latter option.

_Oh yes, things __**were**__ going to be amusing with me around._


	4. The Old Game

**(Warning: A possibly awkward conversation with Sebastian.)**

The polished perfection that was Sebastian's shoes endlessly echoed throughout the hallway, sending me into an almost hypnotic state. However, despite the lulling methods of his feet, my eyes did not fail to notice the very faint look of disgust and annoyance on his face as we walked, and this caused a smirk to pull at the edges of my lips.

"Are you alright Sebastian? You look as though something has upset you." My eyes shone with mischief as I spoke, and though my voice was level and did sound rather convincing, my mouth betrayed me as it turned into a wide grin. It wasn't as though I was oblivious to why he was miffed off – quite the contrary, actually. But, it was fun to play a game with him; messing with his mind.

However, I didn't want to annoy him too much; as with Mey-rin, it would be handy having someone I knew backing me up should I want to plead my freedom to the Earl. And seeing as Sebastian was also going to be the one assigning me my duties whilst I was here, I knew that if I pushed too many buttons, he would surely make me feel like a lowly servant instead of the imprisoned gem that I was – forcing me to scrub lavatories or resort to washing laundry. Neither of those jobs sounded rather appealing to me, and I would much rather be forced to organise the Library or make runs to town and back. And least then I would either be surrounded by books or be outside in fresh air; not slaving away like some ordinary commoner.

Such prospects of a job like this continued to leap to mind, not many of them being very pleasant, with a few exceptions here and there – and I once again found myself wondering what had made Sebastian stoop to such a lowly position. As far as I could recall, when we had first met, he wasn't a butler; he was serving humans, of course, but never in such a manner as this. The fact that he ever got souls at all was usually due to the fact that the mortal in question wanted some sort of materialistic object, such as money, or a business empire, and, sometimes, when they were really stupid, true love. Of course, I never saw the point in this – as soon as they had acquired what they wanted, they were dead anyway, and never got to experience it fully, if at all. For Sebastian to stoop to such a lowly position, to really _**serve**_ a human – and a child, no less – I could only assume there was something interesting about Ciel's soul, and that whatever the young Earl was trying to accomplish, it meant an abnormal amount to him.

That, or he was just to lazy to get himself dressed in the morning.

"I assure you I'm perfectly fine, Esmeralda." Sebastian forced my train of though to come to a stop, and I glanced up at him, trying to see if I had missed anything he had said, but it appeared he had only just spoken. "I simply don't appreciate the possibility of romance amongst my staff." The words left his mouth through gritted teeth, but he still refused to look at me; a fact I was about to change. Speeding up my pace so that I was no longer trailing behind him, but was instead walking by his side, I placed a finger to my chin in mock innocence, and bit my lip as I pretended to think over what he said.

"What do mean? Does Finny have a crush on Mey-rin or something?" Sebastian sighed, his eyes flickering over to me as we continued to walk. I couldn't help but chuckle as he studied me, trying to figure out why I was playing the stupid servant girl act, and not being my usually cocky and intellectual self. A slight giggle escaped my lips, but I turned my head away from him so he wouldn't see, and instead pretended to look out of the windows on my side of the corridor.

"You know perfectly well what I'm on about, Esmeralda. You've been here less than a day and already you're seducing the other members of staff." His tone was rough and low, but I wasn't going to stop teasing him – he was so easy to annoy, you just had to practice, knowing what things to say or do. There were a lot of things that could easily annoy Sebastian; and playing dumb and avoiding answering his questions were just two of them. He knew I knew this, and I would be damned if I wasn't going to use that knowledge to my advantage.

"What? Sweet, innocent me, seducing the other servants? Sebastian, how could you say such a thing?" My bottom lip quivered slightly, and I looked up at him from under long eyelashes, the look of an abandoned puppy written all over my face.

Again, Sebastian sighed, though this time, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he did so, looking like an exasperate father dealing with an ignorant child – exactly how I had set the situation up.

"I am simply worried for the welfare of my staff. From what I know of you and your….'womanly' habits, when you behave like you did back there it usually means the person you are sweet-talking is on your assassination list." He stared down at me with dark ruby eyes, before turning his head away and muttering under his breath something that made me smirk wider. "Besides, they are not real men. Such affections should be spent on someone more deserving of such a creature as yourself."

My hand reached out and grabbed Sebastian, causing him to stop. Spinning him around to face me, I crossed my arms, my amethyst eyes looking him up and down. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Sebastian?" His expression didn't change, so I took a step towards him, and placed a hand on his chest. Walking my middle and index fingers up his chest, I leant it closer to his warm body as I continued to speak in no more then a whisper. "Perhaps you would prefer it if my attention was focused on you, instead?" By now, my hand was on his shoulder, and my lips were mere inches from his own. I could feel his breath on my lips, his body heat radiating against mine. My fingers fiddled with the collar of his jacket, my other hand against his chest to keep me balanced at his height. "It would be like old times again, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed it would, Esmeralda." Sebastian replied, a gloved hand fluttering against my side. He moved forward, ready to capture my lips with his own…

And that's when I pulled away.

"Unfortunately, times have changed. You are no longer the only demon I am aware of, nor are you the only one I have tasted." I said, looking over my shoulder as my feet carried me further away from a frowning butler. Eventually, he snapped out of his trance like state and came towards me, all manner of negative expression gone from his face, and instead replaced with a quizzically raised eyebrow.

"Ah, yes, I remember you mentioning others last night." He said, one hand returning behind his back whilst he gestured to the air around us with the other, his form continuing to come towards me whilst I continued to walk backwards, suddenly having new found confidence in the heels on my feet, and my Vampyre senses assisting me with knowing if there were any objects in my line of travel. "May I inquire further?"

"It's rude to inquire into a lady's personal life, Sebastian. Surely, being a butler, you would have known that?" He smirked, gazing down at me with a rather mocking stare.

"When was the last time you acted like a lady, Esmeralda?" I scowled at him, suddenly feeling self conscious in this frilly dress, tugging at the front of it out of anxiety. It was true, such clothes were never my style – frills and petticoats simply tended to get in the way of a job, unless circumstances meant you had to go undercover at some sort of ball. No, they were far too annoying; you could not run in them, nor move quickly in them. Trousers and roughly made shirts were always a better option, and despite my wealth meaning I could have had several sets of fine China silk dresses if I so wished, I opted not too waste my hard earned money on such simple and insignificant things as clothes. Another reason I hated this damn maids outfit. It was so….. _feminine_. Yes, I sometimes wore more revealing articles of clothing, but they weren't very girly – they were more 'deadly' looking.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." I replied, smirking at him. Sebastian scoffed quietly, and slowly cracked his knuckles.

"Fine – though I will tell you now, my list will be noticeably longer than your own."

"Doesn't that just prove that your easy, Sebastian?" He frowned for a moment at my words, and I grinned. "Alright then, amuse me! In the hundred years that have passed since our last meeting, how many woman have you claimed?"

Ok, let's pause here for a moment – there is something about this conversation I must explain. Though this might appear a vulgar question, my dear reader, I assure you conversation like this had once been the norm between me and the demon butler. After all, when you have eternity at your disposal, games become increasingly boring rather easily; at least those played by mortals. So, you have to spice things up a bit – betting with lives instead of coin, or asking for embarrassing or untimely favours when it came to repaying a debt. And, with Sebastian being the devilishly attractive man that he was, and me with my alluring and mystical appearance, we had both derived our own little game to play with the humans. We used to regularly run into each other many years ago, sometimes once a month, and each time, we would see who had had more bed partners out of the pair of us since the last time we had seen ach other. It sounds degrading and awfully low, I can imagine, but don't think less of me. My 'victims' usually walked free afterwards – Sebastian usually ended up devouring their soul. However, what the demon didn't know was that I had stepped my game up over the last century, and though my list may be fewer in count, I could tell for certain it was of a higher calibre than his. Alright, let us continue.

"Fine." Sebastian replied, crossing his arms carefully so as not to crease his neatly ironed clothes. "If I can remember correctly, there have been around twenty. However, they were all human – some being noble – and fell to me before I was in the servitude of the Earl. The young Master would not approve of such frivolous activities among his staff, let alone his butler." He stared me down, his features dark and his smirk cocky. In my assumptions I had been correct – his list was far greater than mine – but it was no where near as impressive when it came to the actual person he had bedded. "And you, Esmeralda? How many men?" He asked, absentmindedly uncrossing his arms and running a gloved hand over a desk as we passed, proceeding to inspect his finger for dust.

"Only five, Sebastian." I ignored the look of superiority on his face that appeared at my words, and instead decided to wipe it off. "However, mine were more impressive." He paused from a moment, and glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Indeed? How so?" I smiled widely, and his eyebrow went higher at my childish expression.

"Yours were all human. I had two Shinigami's, another demon, and two human Nobles. Therefore, I win." A vain appeared on Sebastian's head, and he sighed.

"I suppose you do. Though, it is not the first time you have done so, is it?" His playful expression disappeared for a moment as he wrinkled his nose slightly, eyes still locked on me. "I thought I sensed another demon's scent on you; how many years ago?" _God, he really was pushy today, wasn't he?_

"Around twenty – he was the most recent. And probably the best." Then, I added under my breath "Good old Creepy-Crawly."

Sebastian made a rather confused face, blinking rapidly as though his eyes were the reason he couldn't understand my words.

"What?" He asked, turning to me as we walked, his eyes suddenly going a very light shade of pink, as though what I had said had upset him somehow.

"Creepy-Crawly; that was the nickname I gave to the demon."

"Why on earth would you do that?" Sebastian probed me for information as though his life depended on it, and it was growing rather irritating. Rolling my eyes, I answered him.

"Because, it's easier to remember that way. Demons change their names often, as you have done so, and Shinigami's always end up looking alike, so I simply give everyone nicknames instead; nicknames that described them." Sebastian still looked lost, so I decided to elaborate on what I was saying. "For example, when it came to my list of five, the nicknames for all of them were 'Giggles', 'Book-worm', 'Banker', 'Easy-A' and 'Creepy-Crawly'. It's easier to remember the names I give them than the names they constantly change."

"Explain further – why 'Creepy-Crawly'? I would like to have a rough idea of what the other demon that got close enough to you was like." I noted that Sebastian was being extremely possessive over me, and I found it strange. He had already done it once in front of the servants, and now he was acting in the same way again when I spoke about my other lovers. That was strange – as I far as I could recall, he had never done so in the past. Was he simply just a sore loser, or did he not approve of the idea of another demon touching me?

"Do I detect another bout of jealousy, Sebastian?" The question left my mouth accompanied by a rather dark chuckle – I did very much enjoy teasing him this way. "I called him that because he was a rather creepy character when in his human – void of all emotion – and because his demon form was that of a spider. Though, how this holds any significance, I do not kn-" I paused, realising Sebastian was no longer walking beside me, and I stopped walking, turning back around to face him. What I saw both shocked and scared me slightly.

His features were noticeably dark, and his eyes were glowing again. Gloved hands clenched into fists at his side, I could tell he was trying to keep his cool; all for some reason I was unaware of.

"Are you quite alright, Sebastian? Is something troubling you?" I wasn't really mocking him that time – my question was a genuine question. What had I said that could have gotten him so riled up? Was it me being so open, or was it the identity of one of my lovers that was making him so annoyed? Did he know of whom I was speaking of? Personally, I highly doubted it – demons never fared well when put together in small spaces, fights usually breaking out over souls in the area, and for that reason, they tended to stay out of each others way; this much I knew. Sebastian began walking towards me; face still set into one of anger and utmost irritation. His calm exterior was gone – for there was no reason for him to his demon ways in my presence – and he stormed along the carpet, hands still clenched in fists. It looked like someone had just insulted one of his feline friends.

"Sebast-" He continued to walk past me, even as I spoke, and this surprised me; someone like him was never usually rude, no matter what the circumstances. Our little fight the other night and the dialogue he had used reminded me of that little and unique fact about him. Spinning to allow my eyes to follow him, I bit my lip on confusion. _What on earth had I done wrong?_

"Are you coming along or what? I still need to show you your duties." His voice was no more than a growl produced from behind gritted teeth, and I knew better than most that it was not a simple act he was putting on for intimidation purposes – he really was annoyed at something. Scurrying along the corridor, I took up my place behind him again, not too far away from his towering form, but not too close either. However, I was close enough to hear him mumble a few more words under his breath.

"Next time I see that idiot, I'm going to disembowel him with his own butter knives." One of my eyebrows crept up my forehead, wondering what the heck he was on about. He huffed heavily, before pulling at his butler' coat and straightening himself out, his cool composure suddenly returning.

"Hmph…. 'Creepy-Crawly' indeed…"

A**/N: Firstly, I know not much is happening in the story so far, and I apologise if people are waiting for some big action scene – but I think it's important that I get the relationship my OC has with the other characters correct and sorted before something such as a battle happens. This is why the chapters are short, and are mostly dialogue – come on, Esmeralda's been around for five hundred years, she knows a fair amount of people! Otherwise, my character might end up saving someone she is actually supposed to hate, or someone she's never interacted with, and so on. Things will get more interesting as other characters are introduced to the story – so just bare with me on the information side of things. Also, seeing as my character is rather intelligent, I think she would talk her way out of things more rather than run straight into a fight, going 'Rambo' on everyone, so that is another reason there is not that much and will not be that much violence in the early stages of this story. But don't worry; we will get to see some kick ass moves again, just like her fight with Sebastian. **

**Secondly, and on a less boring note, did anyone manage to guess who her lovers were? Ignore the two human nobles, I just added those for a larger number – but can you figure out who the other three were due to their nicknames? Answer in a review, and if you get it right, you may have some virtual brownies. [::]**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated, and thank you again for reading my story. It would mean a lot to me if you could take the time to write what you thought of it, both good and bad, but please, no hating. **

**Wow, that was a long A/N, huh? Finally got that out of my system, phew! But there is still a lot of Fangirl in me - where's Sebastian…..? **


	5. Kitchen Conundrum

_Dishes._

_Sebastian had me doing dishes. _

_Oh, how utterly degrading…._

My arms were elbow deep in dirty dish water, and the skin on my hands was beginning to prune from being in contact with the murky liquid for so long. Dirt and small clumps of old food had gathered with ease underneath my fine nails, making my mouth twitch in disgust and pain; the latter being caused by the blisters starting to appear on my fingers from holding this damn brush for so long. Even after a several days of being here, my fingers and limbs were still not used to all this manual labour. Now, that wasn't to say I was a lazy person – in fact, I was incredibly energetic, as my line of work made such attributes necessary. It had simply been an incredibly long time since I had completed work such as this.

A single week had passed since Sebastian had coerced me into working at the Phantomhive estate, and, no matter what Sebastian tried to make me think, it had been as uneventful and boring as I had first imagined it to be. Though the other servants – Mey-rin, Baldory, and Finnian – were all extremely polite and kind, they had absolutely no skills in the business of servitude whatsoever. Never before had I encountered such a clumsy girl as the young red-head, nor had I met a chef who was so attracted to pyrotechnics, and Finnian was simply too sweet and gentle for his own good. How the Earl ever managed to keep a tidy mansion, I did not know, though I was intrigued as to find out what his secret was. In fact, whenever I though about it, I came to the horrible conclusion that the only person who seemed to be of any help at all to the household was….well, Sebastian. And believe me; it pains me to my very core to have to admit that.

The butler himself had been simply unbearable. After our steamy 'almost kiss' back in the corridor on my first day here, he had tried numerous times to rekindle the flame he had felt at my touch; he always found a way to somehow touch me. Whether it was a brush to my chest when he leaned across me to reach behind my form, or his gloved hand skimming my thigh when we passed in the corridors, there was a certain animalistic aura about him as of late. And I suspected that there were two possible reasons for this. The first one - and the one I was most likely to never believe in my entire existence - was that he actually cared about me, or felt some kind of attachment to me, seeing as I had no idea if demons felt any emotion at all. If that was the case, then I would allow his actions to be forgiven; after I had mocked him for being a pathetic excuse for a minion of hell, of course. The second option was the one I judged to be the more likely out of the two, for my own reasons – he hadn't felt flesh in a while, and he longed for the touch of a woman. And I wasn't going to give into him if that was the reason behind his…. Flirtatious actions.

_In other words, I expected he was just simply horny, and I was not a common street girl to be used for his personal pleasure when he best saw fit._

Realising that Sebastian was now consuming most of my thoughts, a small sigh escaped my lips, and I scrubbed harder and with even more ferocity at the delicate China in my hand. It was not important to me if it shattered under my irritated grasp, as I had witnessed Mey-rin break countless sets of fine China and expensive ornaments without Sebastian seeming to do as much as bat an eyelid. Though, the amount of breakages that happened throughout the household had indeed declined since my arrival here. Despite the sudden change of scenery, I myself was actually finding the numerous tasks I was given rather easy to complete. As I had told Mey-rin when we had fist spoken to each other, this was not my first time in such a line of work. Though my position at the Phantomhive manor was not one I was overly fond of, it was one I had come to accept over my short stay; being the sensible girl that I am, I happily chose it over certain death. The boy, Ciel, my new _Master_, still treated me as though I would snap his neck at any second – and if I so wished, I probably could – and it was impossible to miss the hostile air about him whenever I walked into the room. He had nothing to fear, however, as I had no wish to harm him after he had shown me such hospitality I would never have expected from a child his age. He could have easily tossed me out into the streets of London; and if that happened, no matter where I went, The Silencers would always be looking for me, wondering whatever happened to their precious assassin. By keeping me in his service, he had saved me in more ways than one. If I was ever cornered by my fellow assassins whilst in town and questioned on my current position, I would simply lie and say I have been "lulling the Earl into a false sense of security". Yes, I believe that would work; my co-workers had never been the brightest pots of ink on the shelf.

And, unfortunately, Sebastian had not been letting me out of his sights since my arrival here – no matter where I was or what I was doing, he was constantly nearby. Ciel had ordered him to keep me out of trouble and to protect me at all costs; the young boy didn't want his valuable pawn running off when she could possibly prove useful. Oh yes, don't believe I was blind to the way Ciel saw everyone. I had figured that little bit out when I had first served him tea and found him playing chess. His concentration was set solely on the board in front of him, and though he was playing himself, I saw the challenge and intelligence in his eyes. The way he saw each and every person as his own personal chess piece, from pawns to knights, castles to bishops – it was easy to see that his way of life consisted of sacrificing those who were lesser than him to allow himself and The Queen to remain safe. Not such a bad or immoral way to live, for that had been my rule of thumb for countless years; it simply struck me as odd for a _child _to behave and view the world in such a manner.

_Surely his parents had raised him better than that? Unless-_

"Daydreaming again, Esmeralda?" That sly voice I had come to be extremely irritated by over the past week pulled me out of my thoughts, my head snapping up from gazing down into the reflective ripples of the dishwater to face the man standing in the doorway. Well, he was hardly a man, though many saw him that way. _Really, how blind were these mortals?_ "You seem to be doing that a lot lately – I do hope you haven't been trying to conjure up a way to escape?" His chosen tone of voice was obviously mocking, and it was clear he was trying to wind me up. Pointing out how completely trapped and helpless I was didn't make me feel any better than I already was.

"Oh, hush Sebastian. You and I both know there is no point in me even trying to leave; you would have me before I'd even moved an inch." I spat at him, yet he once again simply smirked in reply. That was another thing I had come to notice about the idiotic excuse for a butler before me. Due to his position, it was not allowed that he in any way answer back or insult his Master, no matter how large the urge may be. I had never possessed that kind of self-control, and last time I checked neither did Sebastian – yet it appeared that he had come up with a rather imaginative way of displaying exactly what he was thinking without anyone even noticing.

And it was all in that god damn smirk.

Oh, how I hated it.

It would seem that Sebastian had several different smirks, all relating to different things. How did I know this? I had observed him in several different situations over the course of the week, and though there were probably better things I could have been doing in my time, I found this hobby to be the more amusing of my options. For example, whenever he taunted his Master, the young Phantomhive, he would always wear a smirk that said "I'm better than you in so many ways, and don't forget that, Young Master," or "Remember, I could kill you in an instant if I wished," Quite frankly, it was rather scary how much could be told from just that single movement of his lips. Then there was the one he used on unsuspecting guests who had come to conduct business with the Earl; a smirk that said "You have no idea what I am capable of. You are all pathetic, and far beneath me." There was the smirk that said "I will kill you in your sleep" as well, but that was usually reserved for the ruder guests, or uncooperative business dealers.

And then of course, there was the one he used on me. This was by far my least favourite smirk of them all, for many reasons. One, it was mocking and condescending, and neither of these were traits I was used to be showing. Secondly, it was Sebastian doing the smirk, which therefore meant that the reason behind it would always be far from innocent. And lastly, it was, quite simply, just plain…._**seductive**__. _That same look had been given to me by the same man years ago, when I was but a blushing young rose amidst a town full of thorns. Though it did not affect me as much now as it did back then, it was still enough to make me wonder about what went on in that sick, twisted skull of his. It bought back too many memories; memories of a young girl with sapphire eyes and a head of fair brunette hair lying beneath a man with eyes like a cats and a body that appeared to have been sculpted from the finest marble money could b-

"Esmeralda? My, something must really be troubling you, my dear. I've never seen you so distracted before." It took me a moment longer this time to push those recollecting thoughts from my mind, and I felt a light dust of red cross my cheeks. To add the embarrassment of my runaway thoughts, a pair of snake-like arms slithered around my waist, pulling me back into a firm yet lean chest. A scent that reminded me strongly of Earl Grey tea suddenly bit into my sense of smell, and I knew without a doubt who it was touching me.

"Sebastian, let go of me. Now." The words left my mouth in an almost feral growl. This wasn't the first time this week he had invaded my personal space, as I mentioned before – he had done it at every opportunity he got. But this was the most forward he had ever been, actually choosing to have close bodily contact with me. And such actions unnerved me slightly, especially when it came to Sebastian; I did not yet know the true reason for his seductive ways, and I did not like feeling ignorant and stupid.

"You're doing it wrong." He whispered in my ear, hands leaving my waist to travel up my stomach, along my sides, over my torso and to my shoulders. His gloved digits then scampered down my arms before clasping my small wrists. "Here, like this." Slowly, he began to control the movement of my hands, making them scrub the plates in a slow, sensual motion. "Take your time – otherwise, dirt and grime will still remain on the silverware and dishes. Be slow and precise with your movements, not fast and without concentration." Sebastian's breath tickled my neck as he spoke, but I was far too absorbed in his words to take notice. My body heat was rising rapidly, and a feeling of complete shock had overcome me; it was just like when we had first met. All of my body's senses had shut down, and my mind was refusing to work. The warmth of Sebastian's body against my own just felt so exhilarating I could not even begin to describe it. "Be gentle, my dear. Not forceful. Gentle…." His voice melted off into a whisper, and continued to lull me into an almost hypnotic state. However, he still had me scrubbing the dishes, but that was the last thing on my mind.

My entire body tensed when a pair of warm and soft lips plastered themselves against the back of my earlobe, and an involuntary shudder crept down my spine. That was it. He had gone too far.

"Sebastian, I said it once, and I'll say it again." I dropped the dishes in the sink, and placed my hands on the edge of the counter. "Get. Off. Me. **Now**." To punctuate my point, I tried to dig my elbows back into his stomach, but I was having no such luck. The grip that he had on me was iron, just like it had been when he had me hanging by the neck against Ciel's wall. The reply I got from the butler was not the one I wanted either. Instead of complying with my wish, he instead grabbed my earlobe between his teeth and pulled slightly, causing me to tense again. Before long, he began to suck at the loose flesh, whilst his fingers curled around my hands to intertwine with my own digits. Realising that using my fists as a weapon was out of the question, I slowly raised my leg, hoping to impale his leather clad foot when I bought it back down. These heels were high, pointy, and rather hard – I knew so from walking in them. However, just like old times, Sebastian was one step ahead of me, and he proved it when he placed his knee on the back of my leg – to be more specific, the one I was planning to kick him with. This caused me to struggle against him, but he was the one with the advantage here.

"You've managed to resist me for a week, Esmeralda." He spoke after he had let go of my flesh, and he then proceeded to kiss his way down my neck, speaking between each peck. "I can't help but wonder, how much longer can you last?" Wanting to make a point, the damn butler bit down hard – and I mean hard – against the skin that joined my shoulder and collarbone together. I yelped in surprise, knowing he had most likely drawn blood with those razor sharp teeth. He chuckled, before lapping up the red moisture. "Don't think I didn't see the look on your face when it came to the way you almost kissed me on your first day," he said, referring to our little encounter in the corridor, before we had moved on to the topic of 'The Game'. "I saw it in your eyes, you wanted it." Struggling with all my might against him, I pushed back, using the counter as leverage. However, it was clear Sebastian had other plans, as he just continued to suck at the teeth marks he had made in my almost flawless skin.

"Sebastian, I demand you let me go." Trying to push against the worktop with my free leg, it all proved useless as Sebastian just tightened his hold over me.

"No. You have lost the game, my sweet. I will have my fun. Don't you remember our little tradition that went with the game?"

Damn it. I was really hoping he would have forgotten about that.

"The tradition that we established years ago, the tradition we both agreed to? How did it go again?" He bought both of our hands to my stomach, for his were still intertwined with mine, and held them there, forcing me to be sandwiched between his unbeatable grip and toned body. "Oh, I remember." Another suck to my neck. "The deal was, whenever we saw each other after partaking in our little _game_, we would, oh, how did you put it?" I was growing more worried by the minute. "Ah, yes! We would, as you yourself said," He cleared his throat, before placing his lips directly next to my ear and whispering with a voice like velvet. "…Show off the _techniques_ we had picked up whilst travelling round the board….?"

"Sebastian? What on **earth** are you doing?"

A new voice caused the demon to pull away from me suddenly, and I let out the breath I had been subconsciously holding in. Relief flooded through me, and my heart rate began to return to normal. Things could have gone very wrong if we hadn't been interrupted. Of course, Sebastian was a demon, and therefore I knew what he was capable of. And it wasn't as if I knew him for being conservative or withdrawn when it came to woman, especially me. But his behaviour then had been very… possessive. Dominant, even – as though he was afraid I would run from his touch. Was this all because of what I had the other day, about 'Crawly'; the day when I had seen jealousy in his eyes? Sebastian was never that…satanic. I was, honestly, glad he had been distracted. _Whoever the person is who spoke up, I owe them one_. However, after straightening out my dress and fixing my hair, and then turning around to see who my savoir was, I instantly retracted that statement.

Standing by the door with his arms crossed was a very annoyed looking Ciel. Lips set into a frown, and one foot tapping impatiently against the floor at a constant speed, I wondered if he ever displayed an emotion that wasn't anger or extreme displeasure.

"Apologies, My Lord," Sebastian said, bowing to his young Master. "I was simply showing Miss Mandetta how to correctly wash the dishes – I did not want her damaging or scratching the fine China." My eyes were on fire by this point, their flames fuelled even more by the heat of Sebastian's lies. Ciel looked his butler over, obviously not believing the entire story, and I for once hoped the Earl would show a little bit of kindness and give him some sort of degrading speech or insult about what he had witnessed. But no; Ciel interrupting Sebastian's antics was as kind as the gods were going to be to me today.

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but I need you to organise a carriage into town." I sent a glare at the young boy for his ignorance, but he either didn't notice, or didn't care. Walking forward slowly, he reached into a nearby fruit basket and collected a shining red apple – one of the ones Finnian and I had picked yesterday. Ciel took a bite of the ripe fruit, and swallowed its nutritious flesh, before speaking again. "We must converse with Undertaker again."

At his words, my head perked up, along with my mood. A wide, genuine smile broke out onto my face, and I looked over at Ciel warmly.

"Undertaker? You know him?" The Earl raised his eyebrows at my question, but nodded all the same, though rather slowly.

"I take it you do as well, then?" He asked, and I laughed at him.

"Oh yes, I do! Though, I never called him Undertaker, mind you. That wasn't the nickname I knew him by. Oh, this is brilliant! I haven't seen him in ages!" Noticing the look of confusion of Sebastian's face, I smirked, before clapping my hands together and smiling even wider. "I'll come with you, then – in fact, I'll organise the carriage myself!" Before either the Earl or Sebastian had time to react, I had already lifted my dress above my heels, as I had become accustomed to, and found my feet racing out of the kitchen into just one of the many vast corridors of the manor. Oh, this was truly marvellous. Not only was I going to finally get out of the manor, but I was going to get the chance to see an old friend as well.

_Finally, someone to complain to!_

Ciel stood there, dumbfounded about the sudden mood-change of his newest maid.

"Well, that was…. unexpected." He said, scratching his head out of puzzlement. Sebastian came to stand beside him, staring at the door way through which Esmeralda had disappeared.

"Indeed it was, Master." Though Sebastian's voice was the same monotone sound whilst he addressed his Master, his emotions were rather mixed up. He felt anger and annoyance at his Master for interrupting his little escapade with Esmeralda, and at the same time, confusion and jealousy at the fact that she was so willing and excited to see Undertaker. She had not reacted that way when she had seen Sebastian again – in fact, when it came to the demon butler of the Phantomhive estate, she had reacted in the totally opposite way; hostile and angry. But what Sebastian was sill trying to figure out was how Esmeralda and Undertaker knew each other. True, Undertaker had probably dealt with the bodies of most of the female assassin's victims, but Sebastian knew she never left a trace on the bodies that could give people a reason to be able to identify her as the killer. However, Esmeralda had never mentioned him before, and if she did know him, that was unusual; she had always been one to brag about the people she had met, be it descendants of royalty or famous historical figures. Clearly, a legendary Shinigami would have fit quite nicely into that list of important people. _She __**must**__ know Undertaker personally,_ he thought. _But how…_

And then it clicked. Esmeralda had in fact mentioned that she knew him before…

"When she said she didn't know him as the 'Undertaker', what do you think she meant? How do you believe she knows him?" Ciel asked glumly, looking up at his butler from under a mop of navy blue hair. He took in the sudden look of irritation, fury and envy that flooded the demon's usually calm and soft features, and an ounce of curiosity bubbled inside of the young boy. Sebastian mumbled something inaudible under his breath that Ciel didn't quite catch, causing him to frown. "What was that Sebastian?" The butler repeated himself, and when he did so, Ciel was even more confused than he was before about his maid.

"…_Giggles_…"

**A/N: Oh my God, I have sooo much to make up for! I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I've been extremely busy with all this work I have to do, and my laptop was 'misplaced', so things haven't gone well with this story. When I don't update, I feel like I'm letting people down, so I hope this little bit of Sebastian intimacy was enough to make up for it! And, as many of you have probably guessed, Undertaker will be in the next chapter, so hurrah for that!**

**Anyway, I don't own Kiroshitsuji (I wish I did, I would make Sebastian always have his shirt off in every episode), nor do I own the characters, blah blah blah. I do, however, own my OC Esmeralda, The Silencer's, and the plot for this particular fanfic. **

**As always, please review, and I promise I will be updating sooner and more frequently once I get into the swing of summer being over. Byeeee!**


	6. Carriage Ride

The dull scenery of London passed us by as though it was a cinematic record, the grey clouds casting a shadow over the town and its people. Falling further back into the leather of the carriage, I began to pick at my nails in a bored manner, trying to pick the remaining dirt from underneath the skin. A small smile was plastered on my face, and it was completely genuine; the consequence of my current situation. It would be nice to finally get out of the Manor – not once during my stay had Sebastian given me any tasks that involved me leaving the premises, though he was right to be cautious. He probably thought that I would run off again, just like I did the last time we had met. Talking of the mysterious butler, he was currently sitting up at the front of the carriage, directing the horses towards our destination, though he was doing so with an almost painfully slow speed, I was actually tempted to shout at him to hurry up.

After my little outburst of excitement back in the kitchen, it was clear that the Undertaker and I were acquainted – I reckoned even Ciel could figure out that much. What I was mentally debating, however, was whether Sebastian had figured out exactly _how _we were acquainted, as I had indeed mentioned so before. And, judging by the frown he had given me when assisting me in preparing the horses, and the tediously slow pace with which he was driving, I could only assume that he had actually figured out my little riddle. That was just going to add to the fun of this entire situation.

A forced and fake cough drew me away from my sly thoughts, and I looked up from my nails to see the Earl sitting across from me, frowning slightly, though I had no idea why. Sometimes, I wondered if that was all the muscles in his face knew how to do – scowl and frown. Not once had I seen him smile, and I was really beginning to wonder of there was something genuinely wrong with the boy. Though, my heart could reach out to him somewhat; he did have to live in house filled with three utterly useless servants and a demonic, idiotic excuse for a butler.

"So… Miss Mandetta…." The Earl spoke, his words falling off of his tongue in a slow drawl, as though he was testing the metaphorical waters of wherever this conversation was going.

"Yes?" I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and turning my head to face him. Now that I was in close range with the young entrepreneur, I could see that upon my first impression, I had been ever so slightly wrong. It was true, he was a boy who could be no older than thirteen, but by looking into that one, deep blue eye of his, I could actually see the faint glimmer of pain and anguish inside his soul that had attracted Sebastian to him in the first place. There were a few crease marks on his face, lines that should not have been there until he was much, much older, and his hair although ruffled, did not come off as childish in any way. Though these were small, even miniscule details that no normal sighted person would notice, I was able to pick them up as though they had been pointed out to me previously. In fact, now that I truly saw him, I did not see a child. I saw a young _man_, trapped inside the body of a minor. Though I had no clue to as what he had gone through in the past, or what had made him appear this way, I knew that there was definitely more to him than met the eye.

"I was simply wondering…" His voice snapped me back to the reality of the carriage, and, blinking, I returned my attention to him. "I mean, if I may inquire…. How exactly do you know Undertaker?" I could tell by his voice and the pauses he took between words that he felt uneasy talking to me, though I could not blame him; the last time we had personally spoken, or been in the same space together without Sebastian being present, I had in fact tried to kill him. It was only natural he would still be suspicious of me. Of course, if I wanted to play my cards right, that was something I was going to have to clean up, and the best time to do it would probably be without Sebastian nearby. To simplify it, that meant right now.

"Mr. Phantomhive, I can assure you, you do not need to fear speaking to me. I only tried to kill you because it was my job to do so, not because I had anything personal against you. There is no need for you to fear for your life – I am not about to pull a knife on you and slit your throat, trust me. Me being both caught and identified by my target automatically eliminates the contract – usually, after our first appearance, if we are discovered, another one is usually expected, making our jobs a lot harder. The only thing I'm missing out on by not killing you is some petty gold coins; nothing as drastic as for me to want to still murder you. Besides, knowing that Sebastian is your protector is enough for me to want to say away from those kinds of thoughts in the first place, so please, relax. No harm will fall to you by my hand, I can assure you."

It was true, those probably weren't the best choice of words; maybe they were a bit too blunt, if the expression of both horror and surprise on Ciel's face was anything to go by. In my defence though, I had never been good at comforting people, or saying things in a soft and gentle way as to not upset anyone. The rules I had lived by required for me to forget those who needed comforting, for they were the weaklings in this world and would only drag me down, and the second was to always say things how they are or were – to never deceive people when there was no point in doing so. The Earl may have been but a child, but as I said before, I could see the maturity in him that someone of his age shouldn't possess, and that made me treat him like an adult in ways of explaining myself. Whether I had made the situation more or less awkward was unimportant to me, as I had also spoken the truth; I had no personal quarrel with the Earl, and after his hospitality and, I had to admit, tolerating nature towards someone of my character, I would not dream of hurting him for the sake of a few measly coin.

"Yes…Well, quite." He replied, clearing his throat and biting his bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. "Well, would you care to answer my question?" He shifted in his seat, stretching his legs out slightly, as I could only assume that they were cramped from disuse. A smirk crept onto my lips at his question, the expression on my face becoming one of fond memory.

"Ah, yes, I shall." Gracefully, I crossed my legs, placing my right one over the left, and pacing my hands on my thigh. "The Undertaker and I knew each other some time ago, many years before you were born, though I met him long before that." Choosing my words very carefully, I knew that it was possible Ciel did not know of Undertaker's true purpose or origin, so I would try my best not to reveal it, just in case. "A lot of the bodies of my victims went to him, as you can imagine – and that was what caused me to meet him in the first place. You see, as I was planning to do so with you, I always use weapons on my victims that cannot be traced, so that the death looks natural, such as a highly soluble poison." Ciel's eyes flickered with fear for a moment, before they returned to normal. "However, on one of my more violent contracts many years ago, I was actually attacked by my target. Not because I was trying to kill him – he simply suffered from a long history of unprovoked violence, most of which he took out on his wife, who he was also cheating on with various women, and who was the one who had organised the contract in the first place. The set up for the elimination was a gala; my aim was to seduce the target, escort him to his room, pour my little concoction into his nightly wine, and no one would be any the wiser." I paused, taking a breath, and allowing my memory to recollect. It was then that I noticed Ciel was leaning forward slightly, interest sparking in his eyes and hands set comfortably on his lap, taking pleasure in my suspenseful story as a child his age should. Smirking, I leant in towards him also.

"However, not everything went according to plan…"

_The music from the ballroom filled the air with its enchanting melody, the many men and woman inside chattering needlessly into the night. As the many highly trained and impeccably dressed musicians played, bodies twirled across the floor in a sea of graceful moves and well-known nobility. As the feet of the dozens of dancers paraded around quickly on the marble floor, my own silk clad feet were creeping across the ground at a slow and leisurely pace. The subtle yet elegant ruffles and frills of my shimmering black dress sat snugly upon my flesh, my corset protruding my bust far more than any normal article of clothing ever would, which meant that the eyes of many men were fixed on my form as I moved silently across the room. A master-crafted wig adorned my head, replacing my abnormal white hair with cherry blossom red, the disguise piece just one or two shades darker than my lipstick. Charcoal black powder dusted my eyelids, and as I passed just one of the many large mirrors of the manner, I realised that I quite simply looked like a high class escort. Though that did not deter me – from what I had read from my contract briefing that was how this man liked his girls. _

_Wasn't he going to get a surprise when he met me…_

_Smirking at the very thought of what would occur later tonight, I turned to scan the crowd of dancers and spectators, and though it took me a few seconds to find my target, find them I did. The clicking of my leather heels against marble echoed throughout my ears, and as I neared my victim, it drew the much needed attention I wanted to receive. A man adorned in fine clothing that glowed gold in the candle light focused his gaze on me, and a smirk appeared on his lips. A cane rested naturally in one of his hands, though I knew from both his physical age and appearance that it was simply for decoration – or to use as a weapon on lowly peasants who came knocking at his door. He was fairly young, I guessed twenty five at the most, and that also led me to the conclusion hat that was why he was continuously cheating on his wife – the man was probably forced into some sort of arranged marriage in his teenage years. The various women around him stared at me with narrow gazes; it was clear that they were annoyed when he stopped fussing over them and instead chose to look at me. With a smile so sweet it could give you a cavity, I glided over to the man, before curtsying in front of him, making sure to bow low enough for my cleavage to be shown off to his disgusting, roaming eyes._

"_Good evening, My Lord." I said kindly, putting on the soft and dainty voice I had practiced for so long. It seemed to have the effect I was after, as I saw the look the man gave me, the glint in his eye evident from where I was positioned. "I simply wished to congratulate you on hosting this magnificent ball; it really is quite marvellous." Again, I stuck with the incredibly feminine voice, giving me the aura of a young, innocent lady. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing out loud. _

_The man, who studied me for a few more moments before replying, seemed to like the little act I was putting on so far. He leant down slowly, taking my small hand in his, before placing a soft kiss on my knuckles; sucking on the flesh as he pulled away, though this ungracious act did not go unnoticed by me._

"_The pleasure is all mine, Miss...?"_

"_Catherine, My Lord. Catherine Burgess." Again, I curtseyed. _

"_Please, call me Richard, Miss Burgess. Formalities are so boring, and I can't help but think my name will sound rather scrumptious rolling off of your tongue." He raised an eyebrow suggestively, though be it but an inch; however, it was more than enough for me to notice it. Whilst my insides churned at his expression, on the outside I giggled in the most childish way, forcing heat up to my cheeks as much as I could. The Lord, Richard, took notice of this, and seemed to be pleased with my reaction. This much I knew from the next words he said – they practically dripped with seduction. _

"_Well, Miss Burgess, may I ask why you approached me alone? Surely your husband would not approve of you greeting a Lord by your lonesome?" And this was where it started; always with the casual flirting. Without even thinking I knew exactly what he was trying to do, and whilst I would never fall for men like this, or be even slightly impressed with them, my cameo, Catherine, would. For the next god knows how long, I was not Esmeralda the assassin, but Catherine, the industrialist's daughter who possessed innocence that could rival that of an angel's – and I had to act as such._

_God, it made me want to vomit just thinking about it…._

_Adding the touch of giggling again before I answered seemed to please the Lord more. "Hehehehe…. I am not married, My Lo- Richard." An eyebrow raised on the man's head. "Nor am I betrothed. I have yet to find a man that can satisfy my ongoing…..__**needs**__." Making sure to put as much emphasis as I could on that last word, I dropped the act for a moment, hoping my target would take the bait. And he did. _

"_Oh, really? Well, I am sure there must be a man out there somewhere who is suitable for your desires. He may even be in this very ballroom – you never know, my dear." It was at this moment in time that I noticed the women around him had wandered off in search of new men to flirt with and draw attention from, obviously seeing they were not going to get anywhere with the young Lord preoccupied with me. This gave me slight relief, actually. It meant we would be able to slip away unnoticed. Taking our isolation as my cue to start my proper work, I moved closer to the Lord, making sure to twirl a strand of hair between my fingers as I did so. The man did not back away fro my advances, and neither did he show any signs of discomfort at my actions. The fact that he was so willing to let a young woman offer themselves to him made me want to kill him right there and then, but I held back my urges to completely disembowel him. That would not be wise – I wouldn't get paid if that happened._

"_Oh, but Richard," I purred, pressing my smaller body up against his, to which his response was to slip a hand onto my clothed waist. "The only man in this ballroom that even sparks an ember of interest in me is already taken, much to my despair." Feigning sadness, I stuck out my bottom lip in both a playful and seductive manner, trying to hide my disgust at what I was doing, but I continued to remind myself that it was all simply an act I was putting on; none of it was the real me. At least that allowed me to remain attached to some of my dignity. _

"_Well, my sweet Catherine," The hand that was perched on my waist moved to nestle on the bump of my hips, drawing me in closer to the warm body of the married man scheduled to die. "I'm sure that with some sort of…. __**Persuasion**__, that any man would be willing to give you the attention a woman of your beauty deserves." I could hear the innuendos in his words as clear as day, yet I had to pretend to be oblivious to them, which was a rather difficult task when all I wanted to do was beat him to a pulp for treating me as though I could not possibly have a brain or any intellectual thoughts inside my head whatsoever. Pulling back, I cocked my head to the side, pretending to be confused by his words. _

"_Persuasion? What kind? You mean, like a business deal?" Richard, the disgusting pig who had his hand curled around my body, laughed loudly, but not loud enough to draw attention to where we were both standing in the shadowed corner of the ballroom. _

"_No, my sweet Catherine, I speak not of business deals. But, if you would permit me to do so, I could show you some of the __**persuasive techniques **__that I have picked up over the years?" His grip tightened on my small frame, silently suggesting that I only really had one option. Trying not to gag at what I was doing – which was practically offering myself to him on a silver platter – I gazed up at him in mock innocence. _

"_Really? I would be most honoured if you would pass on your skills to someone such as me." A rather creepy smile crept over his lips, and I tried my best to hide the shudder that crawled down my spine. Leaning in close, he whispered in my ear his reply._

"_It would be my pleasure…"_

Ciel sat with his hands on his knees, back hunched over as he leant towards me, looking just as a child should when engrossed in a story they enjoyed. For a second, I could see a hint of childish curiosity in his eye, before it was quickly masked by genuine confusion.

"So, what happened next?" He asked, pushing some of his navy coloured hair out of his eye. My only reply was a smirk.

_A tangle of limbs and clothing burst through the door to the Master Bedroom, followed by several gasps and moans. Richard's arms were wrapped tightly around my back, which was becoming barer by the second as my dress began to slip from my shoulders where his nimble and experienced fingers had tugged the strings loose. Lips mashed together, I forced the bile back down my throat as his tongue forced its way into my mouth, the taste of expensive wine and liquor dripping onto my taste-buds. It was only when he released me to shrug off his jacket that I caught my breath, subconsciously drying the dripping saliva from my lips whilst his eyes were downcast as he fiddled with his shirt buttons. Taking an extremely quick glance around the room, my own eyes locked onto a tray that held two crystal glasses and what appeared to be a bottle of red wine on its gold surface. When the Lord in front of me came at me again, I placed a long finger to his lips, before cocking my head towards the location of the alcohol. _

"_Why not have a drink first, __**My Lord**__," I purred, batting my eye lashes in his flustered face. "I've heard it can… __**heighten **__the experience." Stepping away from him, I walked over to the liquor, swaying my hips all the while. My hands found the crystal glasses, and soon, my soft hands were pouring the crimson liquid into the gorgeously decorated pieces of glassware. Double checking that there was no way for him to see my action, by way of mirror for example, I quickly looked up only to be met with a plain wall. One of my hands subtly slipped down the front of my dress and my fingers curled around a small bottle hidden between the folds of fabric. The material of my clothing was so thick that my target had not been able to feel its cold form when our bodies had been moulded together as we came crashing upstairs, nor had he been able to dispose of my clothing quickly enough for it to be discovered. Quietly forcing the cork out from where it was embedded in the glass, I began to pour the liquid into the glass on my right, thankful that the wine was so strong that the colour would not be distilled by the poison. Yes, things were going smoothly. _

_That was until a pair of hand wrapped themselves around my waist. _

"_Stop teasing me my dear, I've waited long enough. A simple drop of alcohol will do nothing to compare to the pleasures I can give you when you are fully sober. Let me demonstr-"The hands around my waist collided with my own, hitting the bottle withheld in my fingers. I could feel Richard frowning with confusion from behind me as he pulled the bottle from my grasp and removed it from my sight. My ears picked up the confused humming noise he made as he studied the bottle. Twisting my head to the left just enough to be able to see over my shoulder, I took in the sight of him holding the bottle up to the light. Cringing inside, I watched as he placed a finger to the rim of the bottle, spinning it around the edge before gently placing his damp digit between his lips, tasting the mixture carefully – only to spit it out harshly a second later. Unfortunately, such a small quantity of poison would not be enough to kill him._

_My throat went dry as a pair of darkly gleaming eyes raised from the floor to meet my startled face, and a shiver ran throughout my veins, causing my limbs to lock up. Never before had this happened to me. I wasn't trained for this. And it was all going so smoothly, too. _

_Richard laughed, albeit rather darkly, as he stood up to his full height. Raising the bottle once against to the light, he turned to fully face me, a look of pure malice on his previously lustful face. He began to stalk towards me, and instinctively, my hand drifted to my thigh. _

"_Oh, my dear, was that nasty concoction for me?" He took my lack of speech as an answer, though I expected the terrified expression on my face was evidence enough of what my intentions had been, now that my plan had wrong. "It was, wasn't it? And I expect that my nasty bitch excuse for a wife put you up to this, didn't she? Oh, you poor little thing, getting sucked into a broken marriage like mine; though your very goal was to simply damage it more." He was now standing in front of me, and whilst I was flush against the wall, my hands gripping my dress, ready to run, he simply reached up and brushed a strand of stray hair from my face. "You know, I pity people like you, Catherine. Actually, I bet that's not even your real name is it?" His hand that had removed the hair from my face cupped my cheek softly, his eyes baring into mine, and shaking me to my very core. _

_In all honesty, I was absolutely terrified. Despite my Vampire instincts, I found that that side of me had complete shut down in surprise; for now, my brain was telling my body that I was just as vulnerable as any normal human. This had never happened to me before – everything always went well for me. Not once had I ever been caught out, and it wasn't something I had been trained to expect, either. Especially not when I had been doing this job for a good few years now; this sort of thing wasn't the norm for The Silencers. Getting caught wasn't something that happened every day to us, and more importantly, it wasn't something that happened every day to me. I was completely out of my comfort zone._

"_But, your real name doesn't matter, not anymore." His hand slipped from my cheek, to wrap itself securely around my neck. The sudden pressure on my windpipe caused me to choke, and my sudden sign of weakness only made Richard smirk more, his teeth gleaming in the candle light like fangs – oh, how ironic. My fingers clawed frantically at my dress, pulling at the various frills and ruffles, my painted nails grasping at the material in both shock and pain, raising it higher. Whilst my right hand fiddled frantically with my dress, my left tried to pull Richard's grip off of my reddening flesh. "None of it matters any more – when I'm finished, no one will be able to recognise you. It's hard to put a name to a destroyed face." _

_That was when he took the first swing._

_And when I took the fist stab. Literally._

_His fist froze inches from my face, stuttering to a halt before it could come smashing into my facial features. A strangled sound escaped his throat, like a gurgle, salvia and a red substance falling from his mouth, dribbling down his chin like oil. The previously iron-like grip the bastard had on my throat loosened incredibly quickly, his arm falling to his stomach to clutch at something, and it was soon joined by his other hand. If only he had paid more attention to what my hands had been doing, instead of what his hands had been busy with. _

_Underneath the many folds of my dress, undetectable by both sight and touch just like the bottle of poison had been, was a hidden dagger, strapped into my garter as though it was a sheath. Though I doubted I would ever need to use it, it had always been a safety precaution for me, and tonight, my paranoia had finally come in handy. Whilst he had been preparing himself to hit me, Richard had failed to notice the fact that I had been ruffling and pulling at my dress – he had probably assumed that it was an action caused by fear, just as normal fidgeting is caused by anxiety. But oh, how wrong he was._

_What his hands were grasping at was the blade handle that now protruded from the depths of his stomach, and what appeared to be gallons of blood was beginning to leak through his clothes and drip onto the carpet, staining it the most gorgeous shade of red. Richard's eyes flashed from his stomach to stare back into my own. Without so much as frowning or changing my expression in the slightest, I twisted the knife sharply to the right, causing his body to jolt. The life in his eyes ebbed away as I looked on into them, not flinching once. When his body slipped off of the knife, I stood motionless for a few seconds, staring off into space, and then at the body resting in a mangled position on the now drenched carpet. Wiping the edge of the blade on the folds of my dress, I then lifted my skirt and replaced it back where it had originally been hidden; sandwiched between the material of my garter and my smooth, pale flesh._

_Trying my best to catch my breath, I leant against the wall for support, my head rolling back to stare at the ceiling. My breathing came in rushed, ragged clumps, my lungs struggling to completely fill themselves with air due to the damn corset of my dress. Again, another reason I hated these damn feminine pieces of clothing. My gaze wondered back to the body of the Lord on the floor, and I rolled my eyes, cursing. What was I going to do with that? I couldn't just leave it here. My contract had been official messed up, what with the fact there was now an obvious weapon wound on the body. The contract specified sneaky – a-get-in-get-out kind of kill. I already knew that my payment would now be terminated, no matter what excuse I gave, so the best I could do now would be to make the death look convincing in some other way, aside from my now wasted poison. Speaking of which, I stumbled over to where the bottle laid, the adrenaline rushing through my veins making my movements clumsy and messy. Bending down, I grabbed the empty beaker, and then snatched my purse from where it lay on the floor where I had dropped it when we first entered the room. Stuffing the bottle inside, I looked around desperately for something that could assist me. The moonlight cascaded onto the body, lighting up the bloody mess like an unholy beacon. Glancing out of the window towards the glowing source of light, I was struck with a rather ingenious idea._

_After regaining my breath and sense of awareness, I made my way back over to the liquor, and grabbed one of the crystal bottles. Uncorking it, my hand allowed the glassware to tip towards the floor, and more specifically, the body sprawled across it. The liquid stained the flesh of my attacker a sticky ruby colour, and when I bent down to pour some into his mouth, I though it such a waste of perfectly fine, expensive alcohol. After making sure at least a few mouthfuls had leaked down Richard's throat – the autopsy would now prove he had alcohol in his system, making my plan all that much easier to complete – I walked calmly over to the window, and, after picking the lock with one of my hairgrips, opened the door leading out onto the balcony. Letting my gaze flicker down below, I saw exactly what I wanted to; a group of stone statues set out amongst the greenery. At least now, when they found the body, they could assume that the wound had been caused by him impaling himself on one of the sculptures, for a large amount of them carried what were supposed to be spears or swords. I was starting to pick things back up now._

_After rustling the bed sheets and knocking a few things over to add to my 'drunken accident' cover up, it became apparent that there was only one thing left for me to do – get rid of the body. Feeling sick to my stomach that I had to touch this pathetic excuse for a man once again, I stooped to a crouching position, and secured my hand around his shirt collar. Now that I had recovered my senses, and the fact that I had now returned to my comfort zone, my vampire strengths had returned to me, and in one easy movement, I lifted his disgusting body off of the ground, holding it a little bit higher than my own head so that his feet did not drag along the carpet; I did not wish to leave nay traces of a struggle, or, if I could get away with it, I would like to leave no traces of me even being in that room. _

_A few strides later, I stood on the balcony, Richard's body dangling over the side, his glassy eyes looking at me in an expression of eternal shock and pain. Smirking to myself, I actually began to speak to the corpse._

"_Oh, Richard dear, it appears you've gotten yourself into quite a conundrum." He did not reply to my words. "I should thank you, actually – it is not often that a contract becomes so interesting and…. __**Intimate**__." That one word left my mouth through gritted teeth, and I spat at him, though I knew he could not hear nor feel my words or actions. An estranged chuckle left my lips, and the muscles in my hand flexed, letting the body drop to the ground twenty feet below. Deciding not to give that fool the good grace of having my eyes follow his last movements, I heard his form collide with at least two statues. Smiling, I went to reach for the golden door knob, before I heard footsteps coming down the hallway, and a voice calling out to someone. _

"_Richard? Where are you? You told me to meet you during the speech your wife is doing; you promised we would have our fun then." The female voice whined. Noting that it wasn't the voice of the Lord's wife – probably just another one of his concubines, my mind concluded – I cursed violently under my breath. Hitching my dress up around my knees, I turned to face the window, and took a run up. My heeled foot used the railing to get a little bit more height, and in one graceful leap I was soaring through the air, landing near the gates leading away from the estate into the fields that surrounded it a few seconds later; after all, I could hardly walk back to town using the streets in a tattered dress covered in blood. As I went to jump over the high iron fence, I heard a high pitched scream come from the bedroom I had just left, and risking a single glance back, my eyes spotted the silhouetted figure of a young woman flailing her arms around on the balcony, obviously concerned with something. A genuine smile graced my lips, and wanting to leave on a good note, my feet led me away from the scene. _

Ciel was silent as he stared at me, the tale I had spun him obviously entrapping his mind. I did not know whether he was still coming to terms with the gory terms with which I had described my method of killing, or the grisly image of the monster inside that my feelings portrayed; either way, he was speechless, and from what my instinct was telling me, that was unusual for someone such as Ciel. After a few moments of peaceful silence – Ciel still blank as a piece of fresh parchment and I smirking like a successful conman – the young Earl sat back and puffed out a large sum of air, and this just caused me to smirk more.

"Well, Miss Mandetta, that was a most interesting story – impressive, I will admit."

Chuckling, I shook my head softly. This seemed to catch the attention of the boy, as he arched an eyebrow in question. "What? Are you mocking my reaction?" He said harshly, returning to his cold and cool demeanour. Again, I shook my head.

"Of course not, Mister Phantomhive; it's just the fact that, well, that is only half of the story – and seeing your reaction to that, I'm wondering just how impressed you will be when it comes to the next part." Ciel cocked his head to the side, frowning slightly, obviously puzzled by my words.

"What do you mean, Miss Mandetta?" Brushing a few strands of stray hair from out of my eyes, I cleared my throat before continuing.

"When I returned to The Silencer's, they told me that not only had I compromised the mission, but had also possibly endangered the organisation from being a little bit careless."

"Really?" Ciel asked, folding his hands in his lap. "How so?"

"Apparently - and this was unbeknown to me at the time – Richard, the Lord that I 'took care of', only ever drank the wine from his personal cabinet before having intercourse." I did not fail to notice the almost invisible blush that crossed the boy's cheeks at the bluntness of my words, and that caused me to smile. "Of course, when they found the body covered in wine and with the alcohol possibly in his system, they were confused as to why there was no female companion nearby, as they would usually be when he was intoxicated. Naturally, when they found not a single trace of a possible lover nearby, they assumed foul play was the cause for the man's death; not the accident I had wanted them to think was the cause. And that meant rumours, whispers of murder – which naturally meant my lack of discretion was noticed, and bought up frequently by my superiors. In short, I almost got in a lot of trouble."

"Finally, when a few select people began to mention our name, my superiors decided it was time to step in. They wanted the body gone, and replaced with a professionally designed decoy that was alcohol and knife-wound free, but that contained a failed heart. The police had not yet come to hear the mortician's verdict, and neither had the funeral arrangements be made, which meant very few people had seen the body. They were; the wife of Richard, the woman who wanted her 'fun' and found him dead, the doctors, and the mortician. As I said before, the girl and the doctors had only seen the blood on the outside of the body – not on the inside – and the mortician had not dissected the body yet. The organisation thought that we could possibly save ourselves if we did a swap, as when the verdict was given by the mortician, it would turn out that Richard had most probably had a fit, what with the knocked over furniture and split alcohol. He lived a wealthy lifestyle, so such a thing was not commonly unheard of. It was more likely to be believed than what I had originally gone with, anyway."

"So that was our plan; switch the old body with a fake one that would make the death appear far more natural and less suspicious than what it had first appeared." I finished my little explanation speech, and took a deep breath, letting my tongue and mind relax for the moment. Ciel had sat patiently across from me all the while, and for that I was grateful; at least he was being moderately polite towards me, even if it was forced.

"Well, for what I've seen and heard of you before, that sounds pretty simple for someone of your skill." He said, using his gloved hand to motion to my sitting form; his action caused a smile to cross my lips.

"Why, thank you, Ciel; I appreciate the compliment." He smiled gently at me. "But I'm afraid you are mistaken. It was not simple in the slightest." His smile turned into a subtle frown, and he sat back in his seat.

"Why was that?" He asked, tapping his fingers against the leather seat of the carriage of the carriage.

"Oh, that's an easy question to answer." I replied, laughing. When I saw that he was thoroughly confused, I spoke again. "The fact was, Ciel, I had to steal a dead body from a mortician, and normally, this would be no big deal – a mortician does not usually have any attachments towards his 'customers'." Straightening the creases out in my dress, I continued with a small chuckle.

"But the mortician I had to deal with did have a special connection with his customers. I mean, you've seen Undertaker Ciel; you know what he gets like when you interfere with one of his guests. Imagine the reaction he had to me stealing one of them!"

**A/N: I am incredibly sorry for not updating for ages – I've been extremely busy with academic work and haven't had time to sit down and write for couple of hours. So I decided to make this chapter twice as long as normal to make up for it. In case anyone got confused, the **_**acrylic **_**text symbolised a flashback, and it will throughout the rest of the story. I'm pretty sure the whole of the next chapter will be a flashback, as I really want to go into detail about how Esmeralda meets Undertaker, and this will probably be the case for whenever she is introduced to a character that she is already familiar; remembers, she's been around for a long time!**__

**Reviews are much appreciated, as it doesn't take long to just write a few nice words, and they give me inspiration to write sooner. I will try to update more frequently, but I am also starting a Rise of The Guardians Boyfriend Scenarios Fanfic alongside this main story – it will only be for a bit of fun, but check it out if you want.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Meeting In The Market

The carriage fell silent for a few moments whilst Ciel processed my words. I remained where I was, seated on the leather with a wide smile on my lips. It took a few seconds before the boy replied, but when he did, it was very slowly.

"So…. how exactly did he react? I would imagine someone such as him would be a bit…. Overly protective of his customers." Ciel questioned me with his head cocked to the side, his gloved fingers set in a steeple-like position. The way he had spoken led me to believe that he did not wish to offend Undertaker, though whether that was because of the fact he now knew we were acquainted, I did not know. If that was the reason, then I mentally applauded his polite manners and cautiousness.

"He reacted in the way you would imagine someone like him to react." My answer was simple, not detailed and thorough, and it had the effect I knew that it would on the young Lord. His eye gleamed with a brief flicker of curiosity, and I knew that he wished to know more than what I had told him. His sense of wanting to know seemed to overpower him for a moment, as he quickly blurted out yet another question.

"How so, exactly? You must have another story to tell?" I raised a quizzical eyebrow at this, smirking at his childish choice of words. He himself quickly realised what he had said and the tone of voice which he had used too, and how it must have come across as a brief wave of crimson fluttered across his pale cheeks, and he stuttered to get his next words out. "I mean, w-well, it's just t-that…" He stopped his rambling, and took a deep breathe, trying to regain his composure. This made me wonder exactly what problems he had in being a child; was he expected to act far older than his age more frequently than I realised? Though I was not oblivious to the fact he had to make adult decisions – he was the head of a large business and an Earl, after all – I would have thought he would at least have the opportunity to act his age at least every once in a while. However, from the way he constantly behaved, and the way he seemed to loathe being treated like a child and acting like one, my instincts were telling me that I was terribly wrong. That caused a brief wave of pity to sweep through me, but I hid any compassion I felt behind my usual mask.

"What I mean to say, is that the Undertaker is a rather mysterious figure – it would be interesting to know more about him. And you seem to know him rather well, or at least, that is how it comes across." Another smile tugged at my lips at the desperation of the boy's words; he did have a thirst for knowledge, I would give him that. "Surely, you can tell me what happened?" He was now leaning forward once again, hands clasping his knees in interest. Chuckling, I decided to give him a small ounce of what he wanted.

"All you need to know, Ciel," I shifted from my sitting position so I could bend over, my face but an inch from the young Earl's. Staring straight into his single blue eye, I decided I could scare him just a little bit. "Is that Undertaker is not to be messed with, especially when it comes to his guests. I barely escaped his shop alive, practically crawling out on all fours." The boy's eye widened and his mouth gaped open slightly, shocked at my words. I expected he simply knew Undertaker as the giggling, insane mess of a man that he pretended to be – not as the raging, dangerous, yet incredibly alluring man I knew him to be. "But do not worry Ciel; we became very close friends after that encounter. We both agreed to simply getting off on the wrong foot, and decided to make it up to each other by meeting up every now and then." A small chuckle flowed from my lips, and I crossed my hands over my dress. "And make it up to each other we did."

Before Ciel could question what I meant, the carriage came to a sudden halt, and, upon glancing out of the window, I realised that we must have come to our destination; if the giant sign that read 'Undertaker' that hung loosely upon the shop next to carriage was anything to go by. Smiling, I turned back to Ciel who was looking rather bored all of a sudden. He glanced at his watch briefly, and I silently questioned what he was waiting for. However, when the carriage door opened and a silky, gloved hand appeared, I realised what it was he was awaiting to happen. He nodded at me briefly, signalling that I should exit the carriage.

"Lady's first, Miss Mandetta." Smiling at his act of good manners, I got into a crouching position, as the roof would not permit me to stand at my full height as I believed it would allow Ciel to do. Gingerly stepping out of the carriage in my leather heels, I planted one foot firmly on the metal step, and went to climb off when my dress got snagged of the door.

As I have mentioned before, I was not used to wearing feminine clothing, and therefore, I was not used to moving around in it. My brain simply thought that I was dressed in tight and manoeuvrable cloth, as had been the case for most of the years of my existence – not the frilly skirts and heavy petticoats that I had recently been charged with wearing.

I lost my balance, and with nothing to grab onto, began to fall face first towards the floor. Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the impact of concrete and flesh, knowing that was what was about to occur. Obviously, this caused me to be surprised when two arms shot out of nowhere and wrapped themselves protectively around my waist. I was pulled out of the air and into a firm chest, my hands instinctively clutching at the clothing of whomever it was that had caught me. My action caused a low chuckle to emit from my savoir, and that made me look up. Instantly, I felt disgusted. Sebastian was looking down at me with a rather questionable glint in his eye, and a smirk set on his thin lips. I then realised that it was he who had caught me, and therefore he was the one with his arms around my waist and whose jacket I was clutching in shock.

"Are you quite alright, My Lady? Or do you need me to hold you up any longer?" The mocking tone in his voice did not go unnoticed, and my reaction was to snort and scoff in his face. Pushing him away, I regained my balance in these blasted heels, trying to make sure that they did not get stuck in between the cobblestones.

Ciel exited the carriage with one eyebrow raised – I had no doubt he had seen Sebastian's little rescue from out of the window. He seemed to not really care, however, as he walked past the pair of us and towards the ominous looking shop. I stared after him, surprised at his lack of speech when he had been rather talkative just a few minutes ago. When he realised that neither of us were following him, he peered back over his shoulder, the collar of his coat hiding the bottom of his face.

"Come Sebastian, we don't' have all day." The butler he was referring to placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly.

"Yes, My Lord." Sebastian smirked at me, and I sent him a glare back, poking my tongue out slightly in a childish attempt of annoying him, yet all he did was chuckle yet again. Straightening out my skirts with my hand, I stepped forward, and began going towards the shop. That was, until a gloved hand fell down upon my shoulder and stopped me in my tracks.

"Let go of me Sebastian." I growled, my hands turning to fists at my sides. His grip tightened at my words.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go into that shop, Esmeralda. Not after what you told me." Those words caused me to blink for a few seconds, before a smile formed on my lips.

"Oh, Sebastian; don't tell me that you're jealous of 'Giggles', too?" Turning around, I crossed my arms, causing his hand to move from my shoulder back to his side. Sebastian looked down at me with a blank stare, though I could tell his eyes were very close to beginning to glow pink.

"No, it is not because of that, Esmeralda." The words left his mouth harshly, yet I did not flinch at his tone. Reaching into his coat pocket, he withdrew a piece of parchment that had been folded several times. He held it out to me expectantly, and after studying him and the paper for several seconds, I cautiously reached out and took it from him, having no idea what it was. Sebastian answered that question before I had even had a chance to voice it, however. "There is a local market just around the corner. We are almost out of some everyday cooking ingredients, so I wrote down a list of what we needed, and I am sending you to collect them." My eyes shot to him questioningly; why was he letting me wander the streets alone? Why wasn't he going in my place? "I would go instead, but my Master needs me here to acquire the information he seeks. Also, I believe I can trust you enough not to run off – as you and I both know, you have nowhere to go now." Frowning, I glared at him. Sebastian reached into his other pocket, and produced a small bag of what I could only guess was money. "Here," He said, handing the pouch to me. "That should be enough to cover any purchases you make."

He stepped to the side gracefully and placed a hand on my lower back, pushing me along in front of him a few metres. "It's just down the street; go to the end of the road and take a right; you'll know it when you see it." I felt his hand leave my back, telling me to begin moving on my own. Turning around to protest against him, my mouth opened ready to speak – but closed suddenly when my eyes saw that he was no longer there. I caught the edge of a tailcoat disappearing into the shop before the door closed, and a heavy sigh left my lips. Glancing down at the list in my hands, I scanned the many lines of text. The things that were needed were indeed everyday items, being trivial ingredients such as eggs, ham, milk and various fruits. Deciding that I had nothing better to do aside from wait out here in the cold, I began to walk down the street when I realised I had nothing to carry the ingredients in. Turning around once again, my eyes flickered over to the carriage. There, next to the driver's seat, was a wicker basket just waiting for me. Growling underneath my breath about how Sebastian was always prepared, I reached up and grabbed it, before angrily spinning around and walking towards my required destination.

The market was indeed easy to find, with dozens of fruit and food stalls lining the street that never seemed to end. There were no carriages here, just hundreds of commoners going about their daily lives and business. A jumble of voices echoed through the air, some shouting prices out to passers by, some calling out names of familiar faces, and some just plain shouting. Without even realising it, I had been sucked into the crowd like a vacuum, being pushed and shoved by everyone who went past me. Like a fish in a barrel, my head snapped left and right, my body spinning on the spot, leaving me with absolutely no sense of direction. My feet weaved throughout the throng of people, and I suddenly got the feeling of being entrapped, and a fear overcame me of not knowing what was going on around me. What with being an assassin, I did not enjoy the fact that I would not be able to sense someone sneaking up on me in a situation like this where I was surrounded by strangers, and the fact that I was way out of my comfort zone did not help. What with my profession being a rather shady one indeed, it did not require me to socialise with the people of the world – or more specifically, mortals. It had been many years since I had interacted with someone of a human nature, and whilst I had taken notice that the world was indeed changing around me, I had lost a large amount of my social skills in my years of being alone in luxurious solitude.

However, I was thankful that no one deemed me worthy of a second glance, and though I found this odd, considering the colour of my hair, I was grateful for the lack of attention I was receiving. If anything, it would make it easier for me to move around. My mind came to the conclusion that I simply came off as just another weirdo on the streets of London, the same as many of the street performers and artists; all of whom wore colourful clothing and had the most unusual hair styles for this era. Whilst I was insulted by the thought of being deemed a common street urchin, I was also thankful that not many people were paying me any attention – as I mentioned before, I was not used to being in a public area with a large amount of people; I was uncomfortable enough as it was, I didn't need everybody staring at me on top of that.

But, as if this wasn't enough, there was this feeling of being watched that I could not shake off; a burning sensation in my back that was the result of two eyes burning into my flesh, the shiver of fear that accompanied it creeping up my flesh slowly, freezing the blood in my veins. When the combined effect of both of these feelings became so strong that I could not ignore it any longer, I found my body acting on its own to relieve the stress I felt bubbling up inside of me. Abruptly pushing off to the side, deciding I needed to get to some sort of empty space, my breath caught in my throat as I walked. The crowd around me seemed to constrict around my delicate form, causing me to pick up my pace. With every step I took, it felt as though whoever was watching me was taking a stride as well, getting loser and closer to me every second – that feeling of being chased racing through my body. My mind was beginning to whirl, telling me to move faster, and so I did, using the hand that wasn't occupied by the basket to push my way selfishly through the swarm of humans. This situation was so alien to me, so new; I was not familiar with my surroundings, and had no idea who was who, and who was looking at me. This sense of ignorance was not a feeling I enjoyed, and as bile rose up in my throat, I began to jog. The crowd parted for me as I moved away from the hustle and bustle of the heart of the throng, and after what seemed like forever of trying to move away from those prying eyes and whoever they belonged to, I burst out of the crowd, slipping through the final layer of people.

Gasping in relief, I placed a hand over my racing heart, and forced my head back around to face the direction from whence I just came. My eyes darted to each and every person who walked by, trying to pinpoint who it was who had been watching me. _Was it a member of The Silencer's? Had they come to track down their missing recruit?_ I doubted it. Had it been another member of the organisation who had gone missing, I wouldn't have put it past them, but this was me I was on about. I expected that if they even had suspicions about whether I had run into any trouble, they would have come to the conclusion that it wasn't anything I wouldn't be able to deal with.

Deciding to take this time to grasp a sense of direction, I looked around to get my bearings. Mentally, I marked out a map of where I had to go, being just about able to look over the heads of the crowd. If I was correct, I simple needed to travel in a zigzag direction across the market, and I would be done in no time. Allowing my breathing to get up to speed, I looked around at where I currently was, and, though I was still breathing heavily, a small smile came to my lips. I had in fact come out next to one of the stalls I needed to visit, simply by luck. Reaching into my pocket to grab the list Sebastian gave me and letting the wicker basket rest in the crook of my elbow, I scanned the list to see how much of each ingredient I needed to purchase. Once that was done, I put the list back into my pocket carefully, not wanting to lose it in this crowd, and leant down to grab at least a dozen shimmering emerald apples. The lady behind the counter watched me with an uninterested look ever present on her face, as I expected the maid uniform I had on had thrown off any suspicions she might have had of me wanting to steal her produce, which probably would have added some excitement to her otherwise boringly normal day. With the fruit securely in my basket, I straightened up to my full height, brushing down the fold in my dress, only for that feeling of someone watching me to suddenly flood back over my body. It was as though a hand made purely of ice was drifting over my flesh, and I had to tense the muscles in my body to repress shivering in front of the stall owner. And I wasn't exactly keen on making it obvious that I sensed someone's eyes on me; acting ignorant had caused me to live when I otherwise could have died in far too many situations previous to this one. I handed over the money for the apples smoothly, without a flaw in my normal behaviour. Unfolding the list once more, trying to act as ordinary and normal as possible, I picked out the next item I needed to buy and set off towards the stall on the other side of the street, that feeling of being watched not leaving me even as I – rather reluctantly, I might add -entered the crowd once more.

This was my routine for around about another hour; buying the goods I needed to as quickly as I was able, thinking that it was possible I could return to Sebastian in time to see Undertaker. The decades that had passed had not withered my memory of him in the slightest, as it was quite hard to forget someone who had characteristics such as he did. That simple thought of just seeing my old friend again was enough to conduct my duty with a smile on my face, though that expression of happiness was also just a mask for whoever was watching me. I was still aware of their presence and their eyes on my form – whether they knew I was aware, I did not know personally. Throughout my short shopping trip, that strange feeling of somebody looking at me refused to leave my mind and body even once, and that was reason enough to concern me. Only a professional tracker or someone with inhuman eye sight would have been able to keep track of me in the bustling streets of the market, even with my significant hair and eye colour. Anyone could move in and out of the throng of people that seemed to flow like a river through the streets, and anyone could do so with the utmost discretion.

And it wasn't even as if I felt the feeling leave me and then return shortly after, as though someone had lost sight of me only to spot me again a second later. It _**never **_left my body, meaning that this person's sight never left me. Someone was trying to track me, and whoever they were, they were beginning to freak me out. Extremely.

I was at the final stall, buying the last item that was on my list, when that burning sensation in my back intensified beyond belief, so much so I believed my clothes might soon became alight. I was no fool - whoever it was watching me now had a direct view. Feeling like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves, my instincts told me to do what I usual did in situations that didn't go my way; and that was to act as if everything was perfectly alright. My years of existence and experience I had in situations similar to this had taught me to know better than to turn around, and to aid in delaying any possible confrontation, I prolonged my purchase for a just a few more minutes. The vendor of this particular stall was a smiling, elderly woman who had the appearance of a stereotypical Grandmother from the fairytale books young children busied themselves with these days. A kind and gentle aura radiated from her, so I saw no problem in keeping her busy just a while longer than was necessary. She seemed to be preoccupied in staring and smiling softly at something located behind me, anyway. Either way, her attention was not on me – or so I thought.

"It seems to me, deary," She said quietly, smiling at me. Glancing up at her quickly from my crouching position I had whilst browsing the bottom shelf of her stall, I gave my attention to her. She laughed softly when her eyes met mine, and continued. "Yes, it seems to me, that you've got a bit of an admirer." Though she meant her words to be kind, I froze at them in fear, my breath silently snagging in my throat and my muscles going tense, giving me the appearance of a statue. She had just confirmed the fact that someone was indeed watching me right at this moment, yet she did not know it. My mind decided that my best bet was to go along with it, and not show the flicker of fear that I was feeling, or the fact that I did not know who it was watching me. Slowly, breathing steadily, I looked back up at her, smiling as gently as I could in the current circumstances.

"I know," Those words left my mouth slightly weaker than I would have liked, but the elderly lady seemed to be fine with my answer. Not appearing to have a problem with that being all that I said to her, she nodded gently, probably assuming I was familiar with the onlooker, whoever they were. However, fear still shook the insides of my body, my brain hurting with such a large amount of pressure. I could only hope that my 'admirer', whoever they were, was not aware that their presence had just been pointed out to me by the kind lady – otherwise, they might feel obligated to make themselves known, and I did not wish for that to happen.

However, as no one had made an attempt to have any contact with my physically yet, I still considered myself safe for the time being – there was still a small chance I could get away from this little outing without being confronted by anyone. Playing those thoughts over in my mind, I decided it would be for the best if I didn't freak out fully just yet. Turning my head slightly to the side, I made an attempt to peek at my so called 'admirer' yet I could not pin point them in the ever moving crowd behind me. It would make it incredibly easier if I could just see who they were; then, I could purposefully avoid them on my journey back to Sebastian. But, upon realising that I was going to have no such luck, I sighed. My hand reached out to give the elderly woman her deserved money, but suddenly hearing a loud voice made me slow my movements down.

"Claude? What on earth are you staring at?" My hand froze midair, along with my entire body. "That's all you've been doing all afternoon! Why aren't you paying any attention to me" Amethyst eyes widening slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice, I subtle bit my bottom lip, my hand turning white at the knuckles from clutching the money so hard.

"Claude! Answer me! What are you staring at?!" At least now I had a name – though be it a rather unusual one. Surely that would make me identifying my stalker much easier? But then I got the feeling of another pair of eyes landing on my form, and another shiver crept up my spine, one that I could surely not repress this time. Of course, this feeling of complete unease was only increased by the next words I heard. "Her? The girl with the white hair standing by the spice stall?" Obviously, that was enough to get me moving again, my mind telling me to get out of there as soon as possible. I quickly dropped the money into the elderly woman's hand and thanked her for her kind service, before pivoting on my right foot, turning to walk away from the stall, and hopefully in the other direction to my spectators.

"Ooooh! I can see her face now, and I know why you were staring! She's really pretty!" I quickened my pace further, yet the voice seemed to remain close to my retreating form. "Why don't go and talk to her?" I walked faster. "Do you want me to go?" Faster. "Stay here, I'll go and get her." Faster. Faster. _Faster_.

"Excuse me Miss?" A hand caught my wrist and caused me to stop suddenly in my movements. A quiet yelp escaped my lips as my body was pulled back abruptly in the opposite direction to the one I had been racing in, the action causing my shoulder to snap back sharply. Once the hand had a firm grip on my wrist, I was spun around quickly, much like a ballet dancer. Almost losing my balance again in these shoes, I instinctively reached for my thigh, ready to unsheathe the dagger that was always there upon my attacker. Finding that my weapon was not there, I cursed silently, and instead opened my mouth to shout at whomever it was that had grabbed me, about to give them a long lecture about sneaking up on unsuspecting woman. However, when I saw that no one was there in front of me, yet still felt the pressure of someone's grip around my wrist, complete and utter confusion raced through my mind as to who had grabbed me and why I couldn't see them.

Of course, that was until I looked down.

A boy who could have been no older than Ciel was hanging onto my wrist tightly; much like a child would to a mother. Bright blonde hair that seemed to reflect the light of the sun fell over his face to dust the edges of two large, sky blue eyes that sat in the middle of a face of pale, flawless skin. An almost insane looking smile sat on his lips, and I instantly got the same feeling I had with my current employer. Something was up with this boy….

"Hello! My name's Alois Trancy!" He took a step back and bowed deeply, still smiling widely. The boy then took my wrist he still had a hold of and raised it up towards his face, slipping his grip down so that he was holding my hand. He placed a gentle kiss upon my flesh, lingering a moment longer than was probably necessary and then looked up at me, still grinning as if he had just gotten a puppy for Christmas. When he opened his mouth again, I was expecting some snide or flirtatious remark, but what he actually said made me crease my brow in confusion. "May I ask for your name, Miss?" I will be honest, I did not expect a child of his age to be so inquisitive and yet so polite to a complete stranger – I could only guess that Ciel given me an incorrect impression about what teenage boy nobles were like these days.

A soft smile crept onto my lips at his happy and polite nature, and my defences relaxed a little bit. Deciding that he did not seem dangerous or problematic in any way, I curtseyed before him and answered his question. There was no harm in telling him my name, after all, as long as I did not reveal my last name.

"It's Esmeralda, My Lord. And might I say it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Trancy." He smiled even wider at me. Seeing no harm in continuing to be polite to this lovely, yet possible over enthusiastic young boy, I kept my own smile present on my face. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Alois nodded, placing his hands together in a clasping motion and cocking his head to the side.

"Yes, there is." He said. "You see, my butler, Claude, likes you. He thinks you're pretty." My eyes widened ever so slightly at his statement. "But he isn't very good at talking to people, let alone pretty girls, so I decided I would come and talk to you for him." He looked up at me hopefully, his wide eyes shining like a pair of jewels. "Would you please come and meet him?" The sudden boldness of his question caused me to widen my eyes at him even further, and a light dust of crimson to settle on my cheeks. We had literally just met, and he was already asking me to meet his butler simply because the man had shown some sort of interest in my appearance. Did he think I would do whatever he asked me to without reason to do so?

Before I could reply, a shadow fell onto both me and Alois, shrouding us in darkness, and I sensed a figure standing at close proximity behind me. The aura they let out was not one that belonged to a happy person, and knowing that I did not have to turn around to realise who it was, I frowned deeply, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Esmeralda, I've been looking everywhere for you." The figure behind me said, and I dropped my head in defeat, sighing heavily. _Could he not leave me alone at all? Was it impossible for him to just let me get on with the tasks I was set? _"Come with me, my Master requires your assistan-" Sebastian didn't finish his sentence; the words dies on his tongue for reasons I was unaware of. He simply froze, dark red eyes locked onto the small boy in front of me. I heard a low growl emit from the bottom of his throat, and I wondered what had suddenly made this situation so hostile. Silence coated the three of us like a thick blanket, and I felt the invisible tension levels rise dramatically. Alois began to shake ever so slightly, and I felt a hand coil itself around my wrist, much like Alois had done moments ago. I was pulled back into Sebastian rather harshly, ending up with his mouth by my ear.

"Come. _**Now**_." His words were filled with malice, though the reason for that was one that evaded my knowledge. Either way, I knew I would be a fool to go against him when he spoke like that. Nodding softly, I allowed him to tug me away from Alois – who remained standing still, staring at me. Peering back over my shoulder, I was able to speak to him one last time before I was dragged away by a very pissed off butler.

"It was nice meeting you, Alois!" I said, waving with my free hand. Despite the spontaneous way he had introduced himself, I was beginning to like the boy – he just seemed pretty decent, and his enthusiastic ways were a nice change from the seriousness I had come to expect from Ciel. He waved back, albeit half heartedly, and a flash of confusion crossed my features. That expression quickly turned into pain as Sebastian suddenly tugged me around the corner with such brute force I thought that my arm would pop out of my socket.

"Ow! Sebastian, what is your problem? And where are we going?" My body was bent over at the waist, with Sebastian pulling me at a speed my sore and uneasy feet could not match. Trying my best to tug my wrist free, I assured him that I was perfectly capable of walking on my own if he just told me where it was we were headed. He chose, however, to not answer straight away, and I could tell he was angry with me again. But, just like before, I had no clue as to what had set him off. When he did finally answer, it was in an incredibly hostile tone of voice.

"My Master," Those two words seeped from his lips in a growl, his voice being much different to the silky tone he usually used when speaking them, "Mentioned to Undertaker that he had a new maid. When he asked for a name, my Master said yours." Pink flashed in Sebastian's eyes, and I put the puzzle pieces together before he said the next words. "So now, Undertaker refuses to give over any information until he sees you. He doubts that there is anyone else who shares the same name as you do, and who Ciel might possibly be getting mixed up with." So that was what Sebastian was pissed about. I chuckled at him, a smirk coming to my lips.

"Oh really? Remind me to thank Ciel for name-dropping later, won't you?" The butler growled at me, yet I just laughed again. _Oh, this was just too perfect_. I would get to see my old friend, _and_ annoy Sebastian, and it was all thanks to his darling Master he spoke so highly of.

_How incredibly amusing….._

**A/N: Ugh, I had soooo much trouble writing this chapter. I know I said that Undertaker was going to be in the next one, but I tried writing a flash back for him, and quite frankly I just could not do it. Trust me, I promise that he will be in the next one, as you can probably guess from the ending of this chapter. I'd like to thank Just-Me-And-My-Brain for helping me overcome my brief writers block, and if you haven't checked out their Black Butler story, I would recommend you do so – it is awesome, especially for fans of William T Spears. **

**So, Alois and Claude, hmm? Don't worry, this isn't their only appearance in the story – both of them will be playing a huge role later one. Especially Claude, seeing as it has already been mentioned that Esmeralda knows him. Though how she knows him…?**

**I should be updating at a steady pace for a while now, seeing as I have quite a bit of free time. I also have each and everyone of the chapters planned and what they are each going to contain, even so far as to how it's going to end. However, if I don't update for a while, it's because I've either got severe writers block or my internet fails again. **

**As always, thank you for reading my story so far, and if you could, just write a few words about what you thought of it so far, or anything that you think could be improved. Constructive criticism is much appreciated. Byeeee! **


	8. Meeting An Old Friend

"Now, listen to me very carefully, Esmeralda."

Standing in the middle of the street, Sebastian's hands clasped tightly on my shoulders and his crimson eyes burning into mine, I began to shift tiredly from one foot to the other, looking up into the butler's face. The sign behind him that marked the whereabouts of Undertaker's shop was beckoning me closer, and I was trying to refrain from shoving Sebastian out of the way and running straight into the mortician's shop – that's just how excited I was to see my old friend again.

After my little meeting in the market place with Lord Alois Trancy, Sebastian had forcefully dragged me back around the streets to where he had seen me off roughly and hour previous to now – right outside of Undertaker's shop. The problem was not the roughness with which he had bought me back here, on the hostile silent treatment he had given me on top of that; both of those things had quickly left my mind and conscience when I had remembered where it was we were going. The problem was that Sebastian had bought me so close to Undertaker's shop – the owner of which was once of the few people in modern day society that I could stand – and was now denying me the pleasure of stepping inside the shop's entrance where the Earl and my old companion awaited. Naturally, I was not very willing to listen to whatever it was Sebastian had to say, as I just wanted to finish our conversation as soon as possible and get out of the cold as well.

"Esmeralda, are you listening to me?" Sebastian shook my frame slightly, and I snapped my attention back to him, albeit rather reluctantly. Raising an eyebrow to hi in question, I waited for him to continue with whatever it was to have to say, and I could only guess that he saw my silent signal, as he continued speaking soon after.

"I don't want you misbehaving whilst we are in Undertaker's shop; my Master is here on strict business, and we do not need any distractions from you." A small smirk escaped my lips at Sebastian's choice of words – it was as though he was scolding a child whilst preparing them for their very first formal ball. Did he really have so little faith in me that he would expect me to behave in such a disgraceful manner in front of the Earl? Was that what he thought of me?

"Really Sebastian, is that how you view me; as an immature adult who would cause a public disturbance just for the fun of it?" He glared down at me, a frown on his dark face. I on the other hand just smiled wider. "Finally, you're beginning to learn!" His grip on my shoulders tightened, and I growled slightly at the pain that went through my flesh.

"I'm warning you Esmeralda – so not cause trouble." He took a step towards me, and I in turn took a step back on the alternate leg, as though we were about to begin some sort of complex waltz together. Finally, he stopped moving, and I realised with annoyance that he had my back pressed up against the wall that led into the alley that rang alongside Undertaker's shop. Cursing at myself for being stupid enough to allow Sebastian to get me into this compromising position, I went to push him off of me, only for the damn demon's grip to become increasingly heavier. Looking up at him with annoyance clear in my eyes, I decided I would play with what few emotions he had.

"And what happens if I do cause trouble? The Undertaker does so much love to talk. He and I have an awful lot to catch up on – the time it could take for us to talk might go into the late evening? What then, hmm?" Watching the gears turn inside of Sebastian's skull was a rather fun and intriguing pass-time, simply because you could never tell what the man was thinking, as was the case right at this moment. However, when I saw that special part of his brain click, his eyes grew increasingly dark, and he turned back to me, smirking rather maliciously.

"If you miss behave, Esmeralda," He drawled out his words, leaning in so that our faces were mere inches apart. I felt his hot breath on my lips, and his hands slipped from my shoulders to the top of my arms, causing a wave of crimson crossed my cheeks very briefly. "If you misbehave, I will not fail to _**punish **_you." These words caused my entire face to become aflame, yet I hid the flustered state I was in rather well.

"Really Sebastian?" I asked smoothly, looking at him in a rather questioning manner. "If I remember rightly, the last time you _**punished **_me, neither of us could walk properly for a week." Sebastian's smirk widened at my words – he knew I remembered that week well. "However, I think that might put a bit of an obstacle in the way of your job, don't you? Seeing as you need to be available at all times for your Master." Sebastian tightened his grip once more, but I retaliated by just smirking even more, knowing that I had made him extremely annoyed.

"You really are the jealous type, aren't you Sebastian?" All I got from him was another frown. "First you became jealous of the various partners I've had since we last saw each other – even though you personally knew or know none of them – and now you are telling me I cannot talk or have fun with an old friend simply because you are afraid I will distract him from your precious Master." Sebastian's eyes flashed pink, causing a sense of victory to course through my veins. "However," I said, and his eyes slowly faded back to crimson upon my sudden change of tone, "I promise I will try to allow Ciel to conduct whatever business he needs to without causing any trouble." The butler continued to stare down at me with harsh eyes and a stern frown, before his grip on my shoulders relaxed incredibly and he stepped away from my body. Despite his retreat, however, his eyes never left my form, as though he was watching to see if I would run once he had released me. Pushing myself away from the wall, I began walking towards the door to Undertaker's shop, casting a glance back over my shoulder as I passed Sebastian who remained frozen still, much like a statue in his Lord's garden.

"Shall we hurry then, Sebastian? I doubt it wise to keep your Master waiting any longer than he has to." Though my tone was mocking, my words were true – I did not wish to keep Ciel waiting, for I did not think I would be able to withstand the aggravated wrath of a thirteen year-old and not have it result with me hitting the kid upside the head, only then to continue to scold him about being disrespectful to his elders. And besides, I was more concerned about the Undertaker; I wanted to see him as quickly as possible, never mind keep the Earl waiting any longer than he had to.

Sebastian's only reply was to growl lowly. Proceeding to mutter something inaudible under his breath that even my sensitive hearing could not pick up – I was slightly annoyed at that, as I expected that whatever he had said was probably an insult directed at me, and if I had heard it, I most likely would have knocked him into the cobblestone without a second thought. Slowly and obviously reluctantly, he walked up to and past me, reaching around my shoulder to open the door with a single gloved hand. I heard the familiar ringing of the shop's door bell, and I fond smile of nostalgia came to my face. Flickering my gaze back to Sebastian who was awaiting me to step into the shop itself, I threw him a polite smirk.

"Thank you, Sebastian." His face remained expressionless, but I knew inside he was burning with annoyance. Chuckling to myself, I shook my head, and then took another step into the shop, Sebastian following closely behind me, shutting the door behind him as he did so.

Ciel stood impatiently by the desk in Undertaker's shop, tapping his cane repeatedly on the floor. When he heard us entering and felt our shadows descend upon his small form, he spun around quickly, glaring at Sebastian.

"Finally! What on earth took you so long?" He asked, looking from Sebastian to me expectantly, waiting for an answer as to why we had kept him waiting. Quite frankly, I thought our late arrival was purely Sebastian's fault, seeing as he was the one who had confronted me – I had been willing to go straight to the Undertaker's shop, as I mentioned before. Smugly turning my gaze to said butler, I watched as he placed a hand over his hear once more and bowed ceremoniously, all the while keeping his eyes on the wooden floor boards beneath him.  
"Apologies, Master – it will not happen again." He answered, and whilst Sebastian always kept a polite tone with his Master, I knew what his true personality was like, and I wondered how often he wanted to wring the neck of the boy who spoke so downgrading to a demon of his stature. Sebastian just continued to stare at his aster, whilst my gaze flickered between the pair of them. A suddenly awkward atmosphere overcame the three of us, and I took this time to glance around my surroundings.

The shop was just as I remembered – dark, gloomy, and utterly perfect in all its gothic glory. Coffins lined the walls, the wood of their polished lids gleaming in the lights that came in through the window. A certain aura hung about the air – dark, but not sadistic, gloomy, but not sorrowful. Everything about it was just perfect, as it had been all those years ago. In fact, it surprised me that other people did not see the beauty in places such as this as I did; the way the dust fell evenly upon the cobwebs, the way the shadows danced across the walls in an estranged waltz. Oh, how lovely places like this were.

However, it appeared that the young Earl and Sebastian were ignorant to the display of beauty before them, as they simply continued to stare each other down. Studying the two of them silently, I patiently waited for some random event to distort the tense silence that hung in the air.

As if on cue, a sudden and incredibly loud burst of laughter echoed throughout the shop, causing me to jump up into the air out of shock. Several glass beakers and cans fell to the floor, tumbling from the various shelves put up around the place, and naturally, I moved back to avoid being hit by them. However, my foot hit the edge of a coffin on the floor behind me, and I was sent me tumbling backwards onto soft, red velvet. Letting out a repressed "Oof!", I reached out and grasped the wooden edges of the box, my head aching from where it had collided with the tip of the polished surface. Everything around me went blurry for a moment, and in natural response I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to break out of the daze that had settled over me. Silence echoed around the room, and in my haze, I was able to make out footsteps getting closer, and I felt the air shift as another person added themselves to the room that I, Sebastian and the young Earl were in. Silver and back swung doubled in front of my vision, and after closing my eyes again, I felt cold flesh come in contact with my face as a hand of some sorts gripped my chin. The touch was familiar, and I found myself easing into it as the pain and dizziness subsided. A chuckle filled the air at my action, though this was not the monotonous and degrading chuckle that belonged to Sebastian – oh no. This chuckle was like that of a young child who had just witnessed something that they clearly found extremely amusing. And it the happiness it contained appeared to be contagious, as I found myself smiling softly as my eyes fluttered open, and I was met with the long awaited sight of the Undertaker.

"Hello Esmeralda dear," His voice was light and childish, yet I did not fail to hear the slight yet sill crazed sentiment laced within the words he spoke. A pale and sharply-nailed hand appeared in front of my face, and I took it firmly, proceeding to be pulled out of the coffin with as much grace as one could muster in such a situation as mine. Stepping off of the velvet and back onto firm wooden flooring, my hands automatically began to brush down the frills and ruffles of my dress, freeing the material of any dust that had collected there. Another laugh escaped the estranged man's lips, and I found myself humorously glaring at him out of the corner of my eyes.

"It's not funny, you know." Undertaker stifled a giggle as I stopped fondling my dress and reached up to rub my head through my crystal white strands, wincing at the bump forming there. I may be a Vampyre, but that didn't mean I was immune to pain. In fact, my heightened senses made it worse. Don't even get me started on how badly it hurt whenever I stubbed my toe. Compared to me, humans had it easy in such matters.

"Ooow…" I moaned, probing the reddening wound to test how badly I had injured myself. "You really ought to tidy this place up a bit more, Undertaker. It's just as unorganised as it was when I last saw it."

Somehow, without me noticing, said mortician had made his way silently across the room to the door leading out into the hall, which he had momentarily disappeared in to. Mumbling to himself and giggling softly every now and then, I could hear him rummaging around somewhere in the back of the building, and the clattering of boxes tumbling over one another bounced off of the walls. Glancing over quickly at my companions with a raised brow, I noticed that both Ciel and Sebastian appeared to be immune to what was usually Undertaker's normal behaviour. This gave me the impression that this was not the first nor one of the first times the two had visited Undertaker, which did raise my interest ever so slightly. What use would a slightly flamboyant mortician have to an Earl and a demonic butler?

Seconds later, Undertaker came back into the room whilst humming an incoherent tune, clad in his signature cloak, abnormally large sleeves flowing over his black-tipped hands which were clasping an aging leather box. He made his way over to his counter, and placed the box down on the edge, before walking over to one of the many shelves that lined the dark coloured walls. I watched patiently as he picked up a jar of some sort of oozing liquid. Sliding back over towards the counter, Undertaker placed the medical equipment onto the surface, before turning back around to face me. A devilish grin on his face, he reached out a hand and patted the counter, calling me over.

"Let me take a look at your head, Esmeralda dear. That looks like a nasty bump."

Smiling widely, I took several strides across the room, glancing back at a bored looking Ciel and a serious looking Sebastian on the way. Using my arms to push myself up, I hopped gracefully onto the counter, much like a cat would. I felt Undertaker brush my hair aside and scan my scalp with his fluorescent emerald eyes; long, pale and slender fingers dancing of the reddening flesh. I winced slightly, hearing the eccentric man behind me 'tsk' softly at my injury, before prodding again at my flesh, snickering at the pain he caused when I winced again. A shudder ran down my spine when I felt a sticky and thick liquid being massaged into my head, the sudden burst of coldness scratching at my spine.

"Wasn't that the same coffin you tripped over when you first came in my shop?" Undertaker snickered, proceeding to lull me into a sleepy state as his fingers went to work on my head. Again, I cringed as my temples continued to throb, but I did not let that remark go unanswered.

"It's not my fault the place is a mess; it still looks like you haven't tidied up since our encounter." Despite the pain in my skull, I still managed to smile, though my old friend could not see my current expression.

"Would this…. 'encounter' that you are referring to be the same as the one you described to me in the carriage, Esmeralda?" Ciel asked, still standing idly by the sidelines, one gloved hand resting on his hip whilst the other sat atop the head of his cane. Sebastian continued to stand next to him, a smirk plastered on his face – but I saw through his deceptive mask. My eyes were not blind to the subtle glare he was throwing in Undertaker's direction as he kept his touch on my body.

"Oh, well, that depends, Young Earl." Undertaker's voice was eerily sly, and I could just picture the silly smile he was wearing. "You see, Esmeralda and I have had many encounters, of all different types, and- Oomph!" The mortician rubbed his upper arm where I had playfully punched him, causing him to silence himself before he said something I didn't want to. He must have caught my glare, because he giggled strongly once more, cocking his head to the side and parting his lips to say something. Raising my hand to lightly smack him again, he shut his open mouth that had been ready to spit out several unnecessary words. I twisted back around sharply, giving him the cold shoulder - quite literally – and crossing my arms with a pout, silently suggesting he get on with it. Undertaker giggled again at my childish behaviour, before turning his attention back to the tip of my head, dabbing away with a piece of wet cloth.

"The last time Esmeralda was here, she broke into my shop, in hopes of swapping a decoy body with the corpse of one of her victims." Undertaker's words caused the Earl to look at me with an eyebrow raised. "Of course, she wasn't careful enough, and ended up falling straight into a coffin when she was trying to be extra sneaky." Another giggle left his lips, and a burst of red flooded through my face out of embarrassment. I caught Sebastian looking at me with a genuine smirk, amused at my little tale of shame.

"It's not my fault this place is a complete and utter mess. I swear, every time I come here I always end up leaving with some sort of injury." Undertaker coughed and pressed my lower back forward softly, and I jumped off of the counter, feeling my scalp through my hair. The skin was sticky and covered in a thin layer of bandage, but the stinging sensation had stopped. I turned around to thank Undertaker, but he had already gone into the back room. Turning around, I spotted Ciel yawning softly, and he looked highly bored and annoyed. Sebastian still had his mask on, but I could tell he was growing tired as well. Or maybe he liked watching Undertaker's amusing antics. I mean, the guy had a thing for cats – there was always the possibility.

Undertaker came sauntering back into the room, moving like a snake as he swayed his hips dramatically. Holding back a laugh – he was the same as always, even after all these years – I watched as he placed the various bottles and lotions back on the shelves.

"If I remember correctly," Undertaker turned to face me, his hair falling down in front of his glowing orbs eerily and creepily. He took several gliding steps over to me until he stood directly behind me. Peering over my shoulder at him, I watched as he placed his hand on my shoulders and leant in close. A serious expression fell over his face, but his smirk remained, and it continued to do so as he spoke in nothing but a whisper. "Last time you left here with more than just your head aching."

"What was that?" Ciel asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes at our whispered words. I could only assume the way my blush had intensified and Undertaker's close proximity could have aroused some sort of suspicion in the young boy. I heard a giggle from beside me, and saw Undertaker hiding his mouth with his dark sleeve, muffling the various ranges of giggles that left his mouth.

"Nothing for a young Earl's ear to hear." At the mortician's words, a laugh of my own left my lips, and I placed a single hand on one of Undertaker's that still remained on my shoulders. Sensing Sebastian focus his gaze even more on the man behind me, I allowed a sweet smile to grace my features as I spoke.

"Do you still have my coffin arrangements Undertaker? Working with Sebastian has made me nervous about the welfare of my being." Feeling said demon butler's gaze burn through me, I continued smiling widely. The Undertaker mirrored my expression, and out of the corner I saw Ciel raise an eyebrow in interest.

"Of course it is, my sweet. The velvet is still-"

"You had Undertaker measure a coffin out for you?" Ciel asked suddenly, disbelief obviously etched into his features. It was because of this I guessed that Ciel's trust in Undertaker only stretched so far – that, or Undertaker had been asking people if they would like a coffin fitted far too often. My money was on the latter.

"Of course we did!" My tone was beginning to cause me to sound like Undertaker, and I saw the look of slight shock and fear begin to ebb onto his young and innocent face. "We tested the durability as well. We had to see what would happen if the body ended up bouncing around inside the coffin." This sentence caused Sebastian's eyes to briefly flicker crimson, and I didn't fail to notice that tiny detail. Beside me, Undertaker nodded, still smiling like a fool.

"Exactly right, my dear! It was an overnight project; turned out we actually needed more cushions due to-"

"_**Master**_," Sebastian's voice caused both mine and Undertaker's smiles to falter briefly for a second, and Ciel turned to face his butler quickly; all three of us noticed the sternness of his voice. But as soon as attention was settled on him, Sebastian's face returned to his normal, peaceful expression, complete with a signature fake smile. Though, when he spoke, his words and tone of voice betrayed his gentle look.

"May we please hurry along with this business? Before your innocence is damaged further?"

**A/N: I'm not going to even start on how long it's been since I've updated, but now that I have most of my work out of the way, it should definitely be more often than it has been recently. So sorry about the wait, but I had such a massive writers block when it came to Undertaker – I was so afraid of writing him wrong. So a big thanks to both **Just-Me-And-My-Brain **and **SairentouOtcha** for giving me some tips and pointers on how to get him right. Hope I did the awesome Shinigami justice! **

**As always, thanks for reading my story p until this point, and I will try to publish the next chapter as soon as possible. Please tell me what you thought of it; it doesn't take long just to write a few words on how I'm doing, and constructive criticism is welcome. **

**Thanks again!**


	9. Reminiscing

The steaming beaker of tea that sat patiently in my pale hands looked extremely inviting, and as I raised it to my lips to take a sip, I found that the appearance of the beverage was just as lovely as the taste. The way the faint remains of chemicals echoed within the liquid, leaving an after taste that was not completely clean; the way the scent of the drink was not one wholly of tea. Such small and trivial tings bought back wondrous memories of the many times I had been in this shop before, and a brief smile of amusement flashed across my face as I remembered some of the conversations that had been shared over such a drink as the one I had now.

_Oh, the simple things in life._

"What are you smiling at dear? I see that mischievous glint in your eye; what is it? That voice broke me out of my fond nostalgic thoughts, and when I looked up to see Undertaker's glowing orbs staring down at me, a wide grin broke out on my face. "I do hope it isn't my attempt at hospitality that you find so amusing?" Though the man wore a smirk to match my own, I could tell from years of knowing him that he was actually curious; he had told me many times before that the laughter and happiness of others was something that meant an awful lot to him. And I knew that he was not worried about how his friendly nature was coming across – Undertaker was not one who cared about what others thought of him. However, I thought I would still do the graceful thing and reassure him by telling the truth.

"No, of course not Undertaker; your tea is as wonderful as always. You could give Sebastian a run for his money, I am sure." Scooting over a few inches, I allowed my body to slide along the length of the coffin lid, giving Undertaker enough room to set his body down beside mine. "I was just simply remembering the other times we have shared beverages together, and the humorous results that have usually come from such moments in time. Although," taking another sip of the tea, I allowed the sweet mixture to tumble down my throat, the sugary taste causing a wave of approval to sweep through me. Pulling the beaker away from my lips, I studied the honey coloured liquid with a small smile, "The beverages we normally share are usually a lot more alcohol based." The Undertaker giggled softly to my right, and my gaze flickered over to him, settling on his cloaked form with a gentle nature. He still wore the same cloak as he had all those years ago, and yet it seemed to have not been affected by the passage of time as most of my garments had. The long silver hair that I had come to love was still present, although the style had changed slightly – there were a few braids entwined within the strands. Glowing eyes still sat underneath his harshly chopped fringe, and the way the light reflected off of them caused me to giggle, an action the mortician returned.

"Am I really that humorous to look at, my dear?" Undertaker cocked his head to the side, raising a black tipped hand to his chin, and using it to hold his head up. The smile on his lips told me he was not offended by my scrutinising of him, so I just continued to study him as I spoke.

"No; I was just wondering how you've managed to stay the same after all these years. I mean, I get the whole-" I let my voice drop to almost nothing at the next word, "-thing, but even so, nothing about you ever seems to change; apart from the fact that I seem to enjoy your company even more with every visit I have here." Undertaker laughed at my little confession, and I swirled the tea around in my beaker. A few seconds later, I felt a weight on my back and on the left side of my ribcage. Upon looking up, I saw that Undertaker had lazily draped an arm across my back, letting his hand rest on my side opposite to him.

"Nonsense Esmeralda," he snorted, still smiling. "The years have been exceptionally kind to you – you still one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, if not the most beautiful." A childish giggle one might expect from a schoolgirl left my lips at my dear friend's kind words, and I playfully tried to shrug him off, though it was to no avail. I repeated a word I had said to Sebastian before, though this time; there was not a hint of malice present.

"Flatterer," At my reply, Undertaker just giggled more, causing me to sigh. He pulled me in closer, enveloping my form in a hug reserved only for those I considered the greatest of my friends – a lift that Undertaker easily dominated.

"I only speak the truth, my dear. You are a marvellous woman, and I am sure that I am not the only man to have noticed it." My laughter stopped, and a curious eyebrow began to crawl its way up my forehead, his words making me pause in confusion. As though sensing my silent question, Undertaker jerked his head not-so-subtly in the direction behind him, and after he repeated the action a few times, I let my gaze drift to where he was motioning, interested in whatever it was he was suggesting, and came to instantly regret it.

My eyes met with dark ruby orbs set in a pale face; an action that caused the owner of said eyes to quickly turn his head away, trying to desperately avert his gaze and attention to something that would not seem suspicious. But it seemed that my body was a magnet to his gaze, as not even seconds later, those eyes were scanning my form yet again, unable to draw themselves away. That was, until a voice demanded their attention.

"Sebastian, hand me my coat will you." These words caused that burgundy stare to move away from me, yet even without the feeling of it on my skin anymore, the effect was still present. A light dust of red was present on my fair skin, though I myself could not even conclude whether it was from embarrassment or anger at being stared at; at by that sorry excuse for a demon, too.

Hearing a childish chuckle beside me caused me to snap my thoughts and attention back to reality, and away from the darkly clad butler now gliding across the room towards his master. Turning my head to where the chuckle had come from, I was met with the sight of Undertaker grinning like the fool he portrayed so often, the hints of a suggestive smirk pulling at the features of his face. He jerked his head back in Sebastian's direction, and then back at me, a clearly amused hum emanating from his throat. The gears in my mind turned rapidly, and when I understood what it was he was implying, I reached out a slapped his arm out of both annoyance and embarrassment, my face threatening to explode in crimson.

"Oh, hush; you estranged excuse for a mortician!"

The only reply I got was an outburst of giggles – though they quickly stopped once I shoved him off of the edge of the coffin.

"Thank you Undertaker; you been most helpful as always." Ciel said, bowing his head respectively. The young boy shifted the coat on his shoulder, clasping his cane strongly in one hand, the tip gleaming in the evening light. Speaking of which, my eyes widened when I saw the sight outside – the sun was already beginning to disappear below the rooftops of the city, a fact that I was sure would annoy Sebastian.

"It was no problem, young Earl; a pleasure as always." Undertaker had managed to remain cheerful all afternoon, and his optimistic mood was present even now. "However, might I make a request?" Undertaker asked, lacing his fingers together and holding them tightly underneath his chin, cocking his head innocently to the side – however, his eyes shone with mischief. His words had caused Ciel to pause in his actions of trying to get comfortable in his coat, his single blue eye slowly sweeping over to the mortician carefully; an expression of confusion shooting across his young face quickly. It was not like Undertaker to ask for things; he had made his clear distaste for gold obvious since day one, so I could assume that Ciel was puzzled as to what he could quite possibly be after just as much as I was. I may have been a good and old friend of Undertaker's, but that didn't mean that I had a better understanding of how his mind worked than I had all those years ago. The man was an enigma to me even now.

"…..Oh…?" Ciel replied, slowing his movements down as he shrugged the material on his shoulders once more. "And, what kind of request would that be, may I ask?" The Earl had a quizzical eyebrow raised, a frown playing at the edges of his lips, his tone both curious and cautious at the same time; it was as though he was almost scared of what Undertaker was possibly going to ask for. I would hand it to him though; the guy was incredibly unpredictable, so perhaps his careful attitude was for the best. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sebastian eyeing the mortician with interest, and I knew by his stance that he expected another crazy antic from the man before me.

I could only guess that Undertaker managed to pick up on the unease that seemed to have seeped into the young Earl, as he broke out into an even wider smile, his shining orbs leaking that crazy and possibly sadistic aura I had come to know and love.

"Oh, nothing much, Milord." Undertaker said, twirling around the small boy, leaning down to his height. He scrapped a single fingernail down the boy's cheek, and I watched as Ciel recoiled from his touch, though not completely – it was like he was afraid to anger the man. Wanting to see Sebastian's response to somebody touching his master, I snuck a sneaky peak at him from the corner of my eye, watching him as subtly as I could. Seeing that faint tinge of pink amongst the dark strands of hair that fell in front of his face, my lips twitched upwards in a smile. Undertaker giggled at Ciel's reaction to his touch, proceeding to back away from the Earl and glide up behind me silently and gently.

Two long arms wrapped themselves around my waist, and a chin embedded itself into my shoulder, hot breath hitting my neck as I was squeezed affectionately.

"All that I ask, Milord," Undertaker said, turning his head to nuzzle my hair like a cat as he spoke, "Is that you allow Esmeralda to visit me as often as she likes." Both mine, Ciel's and Sebastian's eyes widened at his words – it definitely wasn't what we were expecting as far as requests went. At least, it wasn't what I was expecting. "In return, I will give you all the information that you seek."

"You want my Maid to visit you, in your shop; that's your request?" Ciel asked, and I saw he was still confused by the Undertaker. Speaking of which, I felt said man frown beside me when Ciel gave me the title of 'Maid', and his grip o my tightened increasingly; so much so it was almost protective.

"Yes, Mister Phantomhive; I want your _Maid _to come and visit me as often as she can." For a moment, I heard his tone drop to childishly serious, sounding much like an infant does when they lose a game. But, it was soon gone, and replaced with pure childish want. "You see, it's been so long since I have had good, consistent company in my shop; that is, aside from my wonderful guests." This caused me to chuckle. "And Esmeralda is such a good friend of mine anyway – we have been acquainted for many years indeed. There are many things that we need to catch up on, and I would absolutely love to see her again if possible." Undertaker went back to nuzzling my hair softly. "Surely it would not be a problem for you to send her over every once in a while; I could always give the information you seek to her after all." His hands began to rub my sides, causing me to stifle a small laugh due to my slightly ticklish flesh.

Ciel seemed to ponder these words for a moment, his gaze switching between myself and Undertaker for several moments; his single blue eye narrowed at us in thought. I smiled softly at him, and spoke up. "If you're worried about me running away, My Lord, you need not be anxious; I would have done so already if I wished to." Ciel's gaze froze on me suddenly whilst he took in my words, and I could only guess that I was correct in assuming that that was what he was worried about – and honestly I did not blame him for wanting to be cautious with someone such as myself. In the end, his shoulders slumped as he let out a long sigh; he raised a single gloved hand into the air, waving us away.

"Fine; you're request is granted Undertaker. I will permit Esmeralda to visit you when she wishes." Undertaker giggled happily beside me, grabbing onto my hands with his arms still crossed over my chest. He pulled me backwards, lifting my arms over my head, and inadvertently spinning me around in the process. He twirled me around the shop in glee, laughing like a maniac; my own laughter mixing in with his as I found amusement in his wonderfully mad antics. "However," Ciel began, and we both froze where we stood, staring at the boy, "Sebastian will have to escort Esmeralda to and from the manor whenever she visits; to make sure that she does in fact come here to the shop." My expression fell slightly at the Earl's words – I was ever so disappointed that he did not trust me fully. The boy seemed to read my hurt face rather well, as he quickly added "That is no fault on your part, Esmeralda. I would ask Sebastian to escort anyone of the servants in my employment to and from the manor. It's simple and standard procedure, after all." I smiled softly at the boy, impressed that he was willing to try and reassure me; he kept proving my initial judgement of him wrong a little bit more every day.

"Speaking of the other servants, My Lord," Sebastian started from his place by the doorway, "I think it best if we get back to the manor as soon as possible. Dinner has yet to be prepared, and I have a feeling it will need to be done from scratch if Baldory has already tried to prepare it. That gives us a limited amount of time to get back, and I suggest we make haste as soon as possible." Sebastian finished off by placing his hand over his heart, and bowing slightly in respect to his young master.

"Yes, quite," Ciel yawned, and he turned to face the door which Sebastian was now holding open. Before the boy exited the shop, he turned back to face me, and it was then I realised I had not moved from my spot holding Undertaker's hands from where he had spun me around. Reluctantly, I dropped my favourite mortician's hands and instead enveloped him in a gentle hug, much as he had done a few hours ago.

"I will come and visit as soon as possible." I whispered, and in return, Undertaker squeezed me tighter.

"Make sure you do, my dear. The years have been dull without you." Again, with the nuzzling of my hair and the signature childish giggle. Sighing and raising my eyes to the heavens, I pulled away and out of the man's grasp, turning to walk to the door. Ciel proceeded in front of me, and Sebastian remained where he was to hold the door. Turning back one last time to face my friend, I waved goodbye, smiling widely, and Undertaker returned the action with the waving of his own fingers and a wide smile, green eyes clashing with amethyst.

Upon hearing Sebastian clear his throat beside me, I turned to look up at him, scowling at his attempt to hurry me along. Moving toward the carriage, I continued to wave until I was inside the vehicle; not stopping even once it begun moving away from the mysterious shop - and the only true friend I had ever had.

**A/N: Well, that was rather fun to write! Apologies if Undertaker is ever so slightly OOC on this chapter, but **

**1) I am ill, so my head hurts enough as it is without staring at s bright screen for two hours, **

**And 2) Remember Undertaker and Esmeralda have known each other for the better part of a few centuries, so they're bound to be close friends if they've known each other for that long; and they have had 'experience' in the past together, as Esmeralda mentioned, so he is a little bit more physical with his actions that he would probably be normally.. **

**I will try to update soon, and I am sorry for the fact I keep saying I will be updating constantly and then I don't post anything for two weeks. It's just I am very **_**very**_** busy as of the moment and I can only write when I have a longish period of time free – and such free time isn't very easy to come by in my currant situation. **

**My other reason for being distracted is Skyrim. That speaks for itself. **

**As always, thanks for reading my story, and all reviews are appreciated; constructive criticism is welcome. Also, I have labelled this story as being Sebastian X OC X ? I wonder if anyone can guess who the other person is or will be? I bet it isn't who you think it is….**

**Thanks again!**


	10. Back To The Manor

A comfortable silence settled over us during the ride back to the manor. Judging by the expression of content on Ciel's face, I came to the conclusion that whatever information it was that he had sought from Undertaker, he had received. Is face was still stern, but his eyes seemed to be glinting with what appeared to be hope, or some expression similar to it. The boy's attention was focused on the scenery that rolled past us, the edges of London's suburbs signalling to us that we were nearing the last remains of the city, and would soon be riding into the country-side. Seeing this moment as a rare opportunity, I took my chance to study the boy; I knew from his reactions to Sebastian doing the same that the young Phantomhive did not enjoy being stared at in any way. So sensing he was too far-fetched in his own thoughts to notice, I let my eyes scan him, trying to solve this enigma that was the young Earl.

He was a noble. That much I already knew; and had known since I was first given the contract to eliminate him. But what I didn't know was whether he had come into the position he was currently in from a much lower one, or if he had been born into such a wealthy and pampered life. My mind wondered if he was perhaps an orphan – due to the lack of parents - who had simply been cleverer than the others, but even so, to accomplish all that he had I such a short life span would be impossible; unless he was immortal and stuck at this age, which I seriously doubted. And judging from the way he carried himself, and the way he spoke, I guessed on pure intuition that he was used to such a way of life as this one. But that led me to think as to why the boy did not have parents by his side; did have parents, and I had simply come at a time when they had left on a trivial holiday and therefore put their son in charge?

Though I did expect that most of London probably knew the answers to these questions whirling around in my mind, I did not feel stupid for being ignorant in this instance. My profession and way of life had meant that social interaction was not required with the outside world, and after what had happened some years ago - a story I will not delve into now - I did not wish to return to the human world or have anything to do with it. The only reason I ever had to go out into a populated area was to kill someone. The same reason applied for knowing a noble or being the friend of one; though you can probably guess that such relationships did not last very long. My bloodlust always got jealous when I made knew friends. Therefore, everything about the outside world, aside from any major historical developments, remained a mystery to me.

Turning my attention back to the boy before me, I let my thoughts travel back to the question at hand. I could only assume that there was a story behind the young Earl's lack of parents, or apparent lack of parents, if I was incorrect in my assumptions. But seeing as we were not acquainted that well as of yet – a fact I was strangely tempted to change – I did not want to impose or lower his opinion of me by being to forward. I was an assassin, true, but habits from my life before such a time still stuck with me. It would not be in my place to ask such a question up front.

Perhaps I could ask Sebastian if he could answer my question. Though that appeared to even me a desperate attempt at getting answers, I was almost certain that Sebastian would know. The demon butler might even….. No, that was a foolish thought. But then again, why would Ciel need a demon butler if not for revenge?

"Is everything alright Miss Mandetta?" The teenage noble's voice suddenly snapped me out of my deep state of thought, and I turned to face him. He was looking at me with a single eyebrow raised, and I cocked my head to the side slightly in question. "You appeared troubled by something; actually, you looked extremely deep in thought. Is there something you would like to ask?

Breathing out softly, I slumped back into my chair. Now would be an opportunity to ask him; he himself was inquiring as to what was possessing my thoughts, so why not?

"No Ciel; I am quite alright."

_Because doing so would be bloody well rude, that's why. _

"Very well, Miss Mandetta." Ciel nodded in reply, and turned his attention back to the picture of the outside world; a picture that had changed from houses and shape painted onto a canvas of grey and white to rolling hills and meadows painted onto a canvas of greens and blues. Allowing my arms to fall slack against my sides, I tapped the tips of my right hand against the plush leather of the seat in thought, biting my bottom lips subtly. In the end, I risked another look at the boy, and noticed a look of contentment on his features. I could only assume that he had been pleased with whatever information it was he had managed to get from Undertaker; something else that peaked my interest.

A part of me was extremely curious as to what information this was exactly, but I though it rude to ask, so I decided to keep my mouth shut at this moment. From what I had come to know over the years, I was aware that Undertaker had a rather wide variety of information at his disposal – his profession had led him to become aware of all the seedy happenings of London's underground; that part of the city that nobody really knew about, and chose to ignore as much as they could. Many things went on in that city that the authorities did not leak to the public, and I did not blame them. Smirking softly, I repeated the lines of a poem I had heard a few decades ago, the words leaving my lips in no more than a whisper.

"There's a hole in the world like a great black pit,

And the vermin of the world inhabit it,

And its morals aren't worth what a man could spit,

And it goes by the name of London,"

"What was that, Miss Mandetta?" Ciel asked from across the carriage, his eyes flickering back to me for a moment, and I smiled in reply, shaking my head in order to dismiss his inquiry.

"Nothing, My Lord." I replied, and he simply nodded in reply. At his lack of words, I spoke up. "Beg my pardon, Ciel, but you're not a very talkative person are you?" Something about my question must have caught him off guard, for he quickly turned to face me, eyes wide and a puzzled frown set on his lips.

"What causes you to say such a comment, Miss Mandetta?" His tone was defensive, and I suddenly realised that I had probably insulted him in some way. Laughing softly, I watched as his features turned even more stern than they already were.

"I did not mean to offend you, Ciel; I simply find it both odd and intriguing that a boy of your age does not talk nearly as much as I expect him too." That was the honest truth. Though it had only been a brief and chance encounter, my little conversation with Lord Alois Trancy in the market place had given me the impression that he was a colourful and enthusiastic boy – behaving much like I would expect a noble of such an age to react. He had seemed to be positive about talking to me, doing so out of his own free will, whilst retaining a rather good, albeit hyper mood.

Ciel on the other hand appeared to absolutely hate conversing with anyone unless he would get something out of it. Many times over the past month I had witness him wave off Sebastian whenever the butler tried to start up a conversation, saying something along the lines of 'Is this conversation leading somewhere?' or 'Is this really relevant?'. Though I appreciated the fact that this portrayed that Ciel had a very business like approach to life and other people, I found it worrying and incredibly strange that someone of his age acted in such an age. It wasn't healthy – and part of me actually felt slight worry for him.

"Is that necessarily a bad thing?" The Earl spat back, his shoulders rising in what I saw as a feeble attempt to make himself appear bigger, and therefore more threatening.

"It could be, depending on the cause of your…. selective silence." As I said before, Ciel only spoke when he needed to, but he also only seemed to speak to people he seemed worthy, letting Sebastian take over when he decided something or someone wasn't worth his time. "It's just, I met anther noble boy in the market today, and he appeared to be far more talkative than you."

"There are many noble boys in London, Miss Mandetta; I doubt any of them are like me in any way."

"Actually, he did seem to resemble you ever so slightly…" Ciel raised a brow at that statement. "…If we gave you ten bottles of fine wine and a box of cigars." His eyebrow fell back into place, and he frowned slightly.

"Very amusing, Miss Mandetta." Was the only reply I got, before the boy returned his attention back to the scenery outside, falling silent once again. Raising a hand to my face, I thought back to the strange boy in the market.

"In all honesty, he was sort of your bipolar opposite." At that sentence, Ciel snapped his head back to me at a rapid speed, eyes blazing with sudden curiosity and a hint of fury. His brows furrowed, and I noticed his grip on his cane increase, the leather of his gloves stretching quietly as the tension in his body grew.

"Did you just say….bipolar, Miss Mandetta?" There was evident frustration in his voice. I appeared to have annoyed him in someway, due to something I had said.

I had a bad habit of doing that, didn't I?

"Indeed I did Ciel; is there a problem?" My answer and question went apparently unheard, as the Earl just turned away back to the countryside, muttering under his breath so rapidly and darkly that I could not make out any of the words he said, even with my super-hearing. He turned back to me slowly, and opened his mouth to say something, when a voice from above and behind him called out to the pair of us.

"Sorry to interrupt, young Master, but we are nearing the manor. I thought it proper to inform you that…..oh dear…" Sebastian drifted it off, his voice suddenly becoming heavy with what appeared to be both worry and annoyance. I watched as Ciel became confused rather quickly, and he turned his body so that his voice would reach Sebastian more quickly.

"What is it Sebastian? Is there a blockage on the road?"

"No, Master; there appears to be a problem with the manor." At this, Ciel's eyes widened drastically, and I could only guess he was worried for his materialistic possession. Though it was his home, so he reaction to Sebastian's words was exactly expected.

My curiosity getting the best of me, I shuffled forward on the seat and positioned my hands on the edge on the window frame. Moving awkwardly I such a small space and a such a constricting dress, I did my best to haul the upper half of my body out of the carriage to get a glimpse of whatever it was that had made Sebastian voice his concern. What I was expecting was perhaps a fire – with Baldory's cooking techniques, I did not put that possibility out of the equation – or highway men, or something along those lines of a sinister nature. Despite my sword being back in the manor, I was sure I would be able to assist in holding off any aggressive attention, or to help contribute whatever force I could to solve the problem.

But what my eyes were met with was something I would never have expected.

I could only guess that Ciel saw my reaction, for he instantly commented on it.

"What on earth is wrong Miss Mandetta?" My eyes continued to stay wide, and my jaw continued to drop open even more. Confusion and puzzlement flooded into my features, my brows creasing profoundly. "Miss Mandetta, what is it?" The boy persisted. I did not know how to answer, except to say exactly what it was that I saw. Clearing my throat, I forced my jaw to shut, shaking my head and allowing words to come to my tongue, but the shock of what was in the distance refused to leave me even as I spoke.

"Your manor appears to be covered in bright pink ribbons and banners, Ciel."

Watching Sebastian and Ciel walk up to the front door of the manor, I trailed behind them cautiously, completely and utterly lost as to what was happening. Ciel was constantly sighing, holding his head in one of his gloved hands and reluctance showing in his walking pace. Sebastian simply looked like he usually did, but I could tell by the fact that he was clenching his jaw that something about this whole situation was annoying him as well. I was simply clueless as to just what that was.

"Would someone care to explain to me what the devil is going on?" I asked, edging slowly towards the manor. As if the pink colour scheme wasn't enough to throw me off, I could faintly smell the scent of flower perfume, possibly rose, and it was making me nauseated. Scrunching my nose up in distaste, I watched as Sebastian look briefly over his shoulder at me and smirked at my less-than-ladylike reaction. In retaliation, I glared at him. Turning back to face the manor, he sighed.

"It would appear, Miss Mandetta, that we have a visitor to the manor." Rolling my eyes, I sighed.

"Yes, I could come to that conclusion on my own, Sebastian."

"Really? That's an achievement for you, surely."

"Oh hush, you son of a-"

"If I could request you to be quiet, Miss Mandetta?" Ciel interrupted, his head bowed. I shut my mouth in reply, opting instead to glare at Sebastian – an action to which he simply smirked in reply. "I want to enter the manor as quietly as possible, so as not to create a disturbance." Ciel added, turning his head slightly to face me. I nodded to show that I understood, and watched with curious eyes as Sebastian then opened the door to the manor. Once Ciel stepped forward, I followed him gingerly, with Sebastian starting to close the door behind us.

Instantly, I had to cover my mouth and bend over, retching, the smell of artificial perfume and flowers being far too much for my highly tuned senses to take in. The stench was truly overpowering, and not in a good way. Placing my hand over my mouth to muffle my coughs and wheezes, I tried to catch my breath. Squinting from my bent over position, my eyes took in the interior of the manor, and that quickly drew my minds thoughts away from the smell occupying the room. Brightly coloured ribbons and streamers were hanging from anywhere and everywhere, accompanied by several shiny objects positioned around the place to catch the light. It was a definite contrast to the gothic, regal feel that the manor had possessed before we left. This…. This…. This was what would possibly occur if you gave a six year old girl power over a décor designer. What on earth had gone on here?

It was then that Sebastian finished closing the heavy manor door, doing so with a resounding _**thump **_that echoed throughout the room.

Suddenly, there was a terrible high pitched screech in the air, and I found my eyes burning from the sensitivity such a sound caused. I didn't have time to focus on what it was that it was saying, because out of sheer pain I had already thrown my hands over my ears in hopes to block out the absolutely awful noise. Looking around out of both surprise and slight fear, I tried to locate whatever it was that was producing that god awful noise. Looking up, I saw that Sebastian was also showing slight pain, as he clenched his jaws and shut his eyes gently. Ciel on the other hand was looking like a deer caught in the chase, his eyes wide and terrified, and he appeared to be looking around frantically for a hiding space.

Out of nowhere, there came this flash of orange and yellow, and I found myself jumping back out of fear. My animalistic qualities began to show at being scared and caught off guard, and I was about to run at it, when I felt a gloved hand come to rest on my hip, drawing me back into a warm body. Looking up, I realised that Sebastian was holding me back but wrapping his arm around me – a fact that did not please me in the slightest. When I saw that the blur of colour was heading straight for Ciel, I pushed against and away from Sebastian's grip, trying my best to assist the young Master, who was standing frozen in front of us. I continued to struggle, but it was too late. Sebastian drew to the side along with himself as the colourful mess barrelled straight into Ciel, and I was amazed to see that he managed to stay upright. Ciel himself was spun around several times, that whiny high pitched sound still in the air, but coming in shorter, faster segments. Like it was speaking. And that was when I realised it was in fact a voice.

Ciel stopped suddenly, his shoes digging into the carpet and his top hat sitting lopsidedly on his mop of navy blue hair. Now that the flash of colour had stopped moving, I could now see that the colours were merging back into separate components, rather than remain the mess they had appeared to be. A bright orange, and, quite honestly ugly dress, sat tightly on a form only slightly shorter than that of Ciel's, the yellow I had seen appearing to be the two pigtails that were positioned on the head of the form, made out of dull blonde hair. The form still clung to Ciel desperately, and I found my eyebrows raising sky high. Still keeping my eyes on the form and Ciel, I asked Sebastian the inevitable question.

"Sebastian; who or _**what **_is that?" My question went unanswered for several moments, before Sebastian replied in no more than a whisper.

"That, Esmeralda, is Miss Elizabeth Middleford."

**A/N: Hehe… this was fun to write. Sorry for not updating, but I've been on holiday for a week and a half. I know most of these chapters are just talking and whatnot, but there's going to have to be a lot of character development before what I have planned to happen happens. I'm looking forward to writing the rest of the story though, as there is going to have to be a moment when I will be asking your opinion on how it should end, because I'm stuck between two choices. Ah well, I get to that when I get to that. **

**As always, thanks for reading my story so far, and if you could, please review. I know I'm sounding really bitchy, but seriously, there's been over a thousand and five hundred views for this story, and only twenty five reviews. Even if you just write 'Good', it adds to my morale and makes me feel happy and warm inside.**

**And did you get the poem reference? If you did, you are awesome. (But even if you didn't, you're awesome anyway just for reading this far.**

**I don't own Kiroshitsuji (Black Butler), nor do I own the characters (if I did, I would have Claude working as **my **personal butler, with his shirt off), and I do not own Sweeny Todd either. I do own Esmeralda, however, and the plot for this fic. **

**Byeeeeeee! ;)**


	11. A Mistake

The girl – this, Elizabeth – continued to hold onto Ciel for several more torturous moments, shaking him about as though the poor boy was a rag doll. Her screeching voice reminded me of a banshee from the legends of old, and I was forced to squint once more in pain as she let out another burst of high pitched squeals.

"Oh, Ciel! Did you miss me?! I thought that I would come and visit you as a surprise!" She said far too cheerfully, clapping her hands together repeatedly before cocking her head to the side, a rather foolish looking smile plastered on her face. That expression, along with the pampered hair and the frilly, colourful clothes, gave this girl the brief appearance of a china doll; an image I instantly regretted conjuring up as I had a rather strong dislike for the horrid looking things. My eyes watched as the girl grabbed strongly onto Ciel's hands and spun him around in several small and tight circles, making the boy evidently queasy.

"Do you like what I did to the manor? its soooo much cuter now, isn't it?" That caught my attention. _How on earth was a child able to do all of this in the space of a few hours? _She did not appear to be accompanied by any sort of maid or butler, so I presumed she was on her own: again, how would it be possible for her to accomplish all of this if that was the case.

_A part of me was slightly scared of the answer to that question. _

"Elizabeth?!" Ciel managed to strangle out, finally being able to pry off the clingy girl's arms from around his neck. The colour and blood slowly returned to his face, and I noticed the slight showings of a frown creeping onto his face. "What are you-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence before the young girl rudely interrupted.

"How many times have I told you? Call me Lizzy, silly!" She butted in, waving her hand in the air, raising her eyes to the heavens and proceeding to giggle in an extremely irritating fashion. Oh, I just knew what this girl was like.

Over my many years of existence, I had encountered pretty much every type of person you could imagine, of almost every single race and ethnicity. My profession had taken me around the world, despite my long-term residence in Britain. The New World of America had created many heads of state, not all of them liked by the public as much as they thought. Business entrepreneurs that had greedily stolen jobs all around the world had witnessed my face being the last thing they saw. My hands were soaked with the blood of politicians, executive business owners and lying leaders. I had met and encountered many other people, and whilst most of them annoyed me to no end, there were a few select types that I simply wanted to wring the necks of. These being; people who were unnecessarily loud, unbelievably stupid, ungratefully spoilt, or unceremoniously rude.

This girl seemed to be a nightmarish merge of all of the things I could possibly despise in a person – that really would not end well if she planned on sticking around.

"Hey Ciel?" Elizabeth asked, placing a pointed finger onto her chin. The young Earl himself brushed his suit down as though removing any possible germs the girl might have passed onto him. Straightening his top hat, he sighed noticeably heavily.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" His words came out in a tired and annoyed tone, and whilst it was clear as day to me, the girl seemed to be completely oblivious to what such a tone would or could imply when directed at her.

"I was talking to Mey-Rin, and she said that you've gotten a nice new maid!" A small smile graced my lips at this – I would have to thank Mey-Rin later for speaking politely and kindly about me. That actually made me feel slightly human inside, seeing as people had a tendency to talk rather negatively about me behind my back. The only reason they didn't do it to my face was because they knew that if I found out who was saying what, I would proceed to slice their head clean off with my sword. "Can I meet her?" _Oh no. Nonononononono…_

Ciel finished brushing himself down before gesturing in my general direction with his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes in both a sinister and adorable looking action. Mentally cursing at him underneath my breath, I bit my lip as the hyper girl – I apologise, I mean _Elizabeth _– turned around to face me. What she did next both caught me off guard and made me extremely annoyed. Her entire face broke out into a wide smile, and she made a sound that I would associate with a dying animal. She span around a couple of times on the balls of her feet like a ballerina, and it was almost as though particles of glitter collected beside her in the air. When she came to a stop to look at me again, she held her cheeks in her small hands as though her head would fall off. Oh, if only god would be so kind….

_What? There's no problem with wishful thinking. _

"Oh, you are soooo cute!" My face exploded into a blush, and I eyed the girl warily, wondering what on earth she was going on about. I soon found out. "You look just like the Queen of Fairies from my children's book; so mystical and magical!"

"…"

WAS I JUST COMPLARED TO A FAIRY!?

That was certainly new. Not once in my entire existence had someone said such a thing to me. I had been called many names; a harlot, a wench, a demon, spawn of Satan – you know, the sort of names that get extremely boring and extremely annoying extremely quickly. But I could not recall a time when I had been compared to a thing that was usually related to such things as childish innocence, hope, light and love. In honesty, I did not know whether to be insulted by that comment, or whether it was actually some sort of compliment.

Something else to do with my body caught Elizabeth's attention – something located around my hip area. She gasped loudly, before squealing again, her face turning a bright red. I was almost afraid that by the look of her, the girl was about to have a nosebleed for some unknown reason.

"Ciel, why didn't you tell me!?" She shouted, sighing dreamily. Looking over at the young Earl, I saw that he was just as confused as I was.

"Tell you what, Elizabeth?" I noticed that he still refused to call her by the shorter title she wished her would, and that did spike my interest slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me about your butler and your maid?" She said, and my eyes widened almost to the point I was concerned that my eyeballs might actually fall out. "You two are just the cutest couple ever!" Elizabeth screamed, clapping loudly. "Just look at the way he holds you close to him like he's afraid he'll lose you – oh, it's just so adorable!" She giggled, smiling widely. Looking down, I understood what she meant.

Sebastian had yet to remove his hand from where it rested on my hip, and his arm was circled around my entire form like a snake. I myself, from where he had pulled me out of the way so suddenly and harshly, had managed to tangle my hands within his jacket, and had yet to let my grip go slack. This position gave the appearance of my form hanging onto Sebastian for dear life, with him cradling me in a rather intimate and protective manner. Realising how this could come across in the wrong way, I quickly spoke up.

"Oh, nonononono, we're not-"

"The cutest couple ever; I am sure that title belongs to yourself and my young Master." Sebastian cut me off, his words causing me to glare at him from under long lashes, and for his Master's face to erupt into the colour of fine red wine – though from anger or embarrassment, I could not tell. Trying my best to pull away from the damn demon butler, I found myself stuck in pretty much the same situation I was in the kitchen earlier on.

"Oh, thank you Sebastian! But you two really do look fabulous together!" Elizabeth added, still looking at us with glittering wide eyes.

"Yes, well; we do try." I sent my one of my hands – the once that was previously embedded in the material of his collar – swinging towards his fine, chiselled features. Sebastian caught it swiftly though before it had a chance to dent that pretty little face of his. He held it close to his lips, and when he spoke, I could feel his breath rippling onto my flesh. "Don't we, dearest?" With that, he raised my knuckles to his lips and planted his lips upon my skin. My eyes blazed with hatred, and I found myself biting my lip hard enough to possibly draw blood when I felt him nibble slightly on the protruding bone before sucking on it softly, swirling his tongue over that one point.

Of course, Elizabeth could not tell that he was doing this with his mouth, what with her height and that face he kept his mouth on my skin all the time. She sighed once more.

"Oh, how sweet!" She finished, before dancing back over to Ciel, who appeared to be watching the spectacle between Sebastian and I with a slight hint of amusement. Elizabeth linked arms with Ciel and began to pull him away towards the many corridors of the manor, babbling on incessantly about meaningless things. Before he left the room however, Ciel called back to the butler and me.

"You two may resume with your normal duties until dinner." I could tell just by his posture that he was reluctant to go with the young Elizabeth, so I smiled softly at him out of mere pity – an action he did not return. Sebastian bowed his head, finally drawing his lips away from my hand. As soon as the two youths had left the room, I bought my boot crashing down onto Sebastian's foot, and he released my body with a grunt.

"Feisty, aren't we?" He asked, smirking, bending down to wipe the scuff mark off of his polished shoes. I grumbled several curse words under my breath, wiping my hand repeatedly on my dress. Glaring at him with eyes burning crimson, I gave him a warning.

"If you ever try to do that again, I swear to God I will not be able to restrain myself from maiming you."

"If that is the case, why did you not do so then, my sweet?" He purred, winking. I sighed, straightening out my skirts as I spoke.

"Sebastian, I have already given enough children nightmares by disposing of their parents in the middle of the night; I don't want to terrorise a teenage girl by quartering a butler in front of her." Sebastian chuckled, an action that annoyed me even more. Deciding now was not the time to have a bloodbath in the main foyer of the manor – I didn't want to clean up any more than I had to already – my legs carried me towards the nearest door.

"And just where do you think you're going?" He called after me, watching me leave.

"To the kitchen for a stiff drink – I need one desperately, unless you want me to show you a fate worse than hell."

**A/N: Sorry for it being a short chapter, but I just really wanted to write this chapter today. Sorry for all the hate on Elizabeth – but I simply cannot stand her as a character. She is pretty much everything I could ever despise in a person put into one human. I just wanna strangle her sometimes. You know that episode where Ciel almost hits her fro breaking his ring. I was the one sitting on the edge of their seat shouting at the screen for him to 'slap that spoilt brat of a bitch.' Sorry if I have offended anyone, but I just…. Ugggghhhh…..**

**As always, reviews are much appreciated, and thanks for reading my story. **

**Byeeeeeee!**


	12. Temptation

"Who DOES he think he IS!?"

A large meat cleaver landed half embedded in the wooden chopping board, the thumping sound that followed echoing around the now silent and still kitchen. Sighing exceptionally loudly, stress overwhelming me, I placed my hands down on the countertop and bowed my head, trying my best to contain the fury I had managed to apparently hide so well from Sebastian. Fury ebbed away in my veins, burning my insides with anger so strong it was a surprise I didn't suddenly go on a murderous rampage. What on earth had given him the impression he could do something like that to me and get away with it? The man did not own me, and neither was I a doll to be used for his amusement – yet he continued to be pleased and take pride in the way he managed to make me squirm. Ever single ounce of me wanted to pummel him to the next spirit realm, but I couldn't do that.

Don't get me wrong, I wanted to; but it would have left a bloody mess, and if Sebastian was gone I would have to be the one to clean it up.

Now, I just want to say something that may be of importance. If this was anyone else, or at least, if it was human who had sent me into such an annoyed state, I would like to make sure you know that they would not live to see another day. Usually, I am able to control my temper, but every now and then, somebody takes it too far and tips me violently over the edge. That was when blood was spilt, limbs were torn and lives were ruined. Such occurrences have only happened three to five times every century, but they were some of the most wondrous occurrences of my life. That feeling you get when you hold somebody's life in your hands; knowing that you have complete and utter power of them, oh – such power can make you go mad. Which is exactly what happened with me most of the time. However, over the last century, I had been able to get a firmer hold on the hellish creature inside of my head, and these incidents happened far less. But with Sebastian, my patience was continuously wearing thin. If he kept up the attitude he had and continued to treat em the way he had been so far, the entire population of London was going to suffer under my hand.

The thing was, normally, I never got this mad with his antics – so either something was wrong with me or he had become even more annoying than usual.

Disgust rolled around my thoughts as I remembered the way he had held me, and in truth, there was a slight ounce of fear present. Taking long, slow steady breaths, I tried not to think about the way his hand curled around my waist, the feeling of his body on my flesh, his silver tongue slithering like the snake he was over my hand. Even now, a few hours after that little predicament, his touch was still present on my form, and a harsh shiver ran its icy hand down my spine. Oh, how much I hated him at the moment. And this wasn't even the first time he had done such a thing. Did he not know he was the own reason for his failed advances? Why I never let anyone get o close to me, only using men as a means to warm my bed? Some part of me knew the truth – knew that he was ignorant in areas such as emotions and the effect certain things ha don people. But another part of me wanted to think that he knew exactly what he was doing, that he was playing with me like a puppet, because then, I would every excuse to hate him.

Scowling, and realising that my thoughts had gotten off track from the task at hand, I jolted my hand forward and snatched a large piece of pig meat that was easily a quarter of my size, and in one swift movement I had thrown it down onto the chopping board, specks of fat and small drops of body fluid flicking onto my dress. Frankly, I didn't care. Tugging the sharpened cleaver out of the wood, I raised it until it glinted menacingly against the light of the kitchen, and proceeded to send it crashing back towards the meat with deadly precision. There was a satisfying sound as the flesh was ripped by my weapon, and for a brief moment I could pretend it was Sebastian who I was cutting mercilessly into thin pieces. Again, I raised the knife, and again, it sliced through the meat with a delightful sound that sent my inner sadist into a spiral of pleasure. This delicious, manic, and completely deranged fantasising process went on for a few more seconds, until the whole piece of pork was sitting upon the countertop in finely chopped slices fit for roasting. The Young Master had demanded finely stuffed pork for his evening meal, and his incredibly obnoxious fiancée had hastily agreed; an obviously pitiful attempt to win his favour ever so slightly. If it hadn't been for the other servants in the room, I would have surely poisoned her serving. Speaking of which….

"Miss Mandetta, are you alright? You...uhm…seem to be troubled by something." Finney's gentle voice reached my ears, and I snapped my head around to look at him. My grip on the cleaver softened slightly, and with a long and tired sigh I placed it cautiously onto the side. Wiping my hands onto my dress, a strand of hair fell into my face, and I gingerly placed it behind my ear with the calmest movements I could muster. Using the incredibly acting skills that I had picked up over the years, my muscles forced a sweet and kind smile onto my face, though it was incredibly strained.

"I'm fine Finney – just a bit annoyed with Sebastian." Lifting my skirt slightly, I walked over to where the spices and herbs were kept, and went to work picking out the ones that would work the best with the meat at hand. Years of experience in the field of servitude had left me rather maid-savvy, and I knew the best techniques for almost everything. "He seems to have perfected the task of annoying me beyond measure." My hand picked up the small tub of saffron – a spice I was not surprised such a wealthy boy had in his kitchen – and tossed the container back and forth between my grasp absentmindedly. "Everything he does just set's me on edge lately. Actually, everything seems to be annoying me lately." Glancing over at the small boy, I threw him a quick smile. "Aside from you of course, you're far too adorable for me to be annoyed at." _Ok, where did that come from?_ One moment I'm about to murder everyone in sight and the next I'm flirting with the help. Was Sebastian causing me to have mood swings now?

The boy's face erupted into a blush as I walked back over to where the meat was resting. Unstoppering the small container, I took some of the spice into my hand and sprinkled it over the fresh meat, assuring that the flavour would soak into it whilst it was cooked. At my little action of attempting delicate cuisine, another voice spoke up.

"I don't see why Sebastian has ordered you to help me, Esmeralda, I mean I-oomph!" Raising an eyebrow I turned to see what it was that was had cut Bard off, only to see him rubbing his side and Finney standing there with a scowl on his face and his elbow sticking out sharply.

"Mister Sebastian said we were only allowed to address her as Miss Mandetta, Bard! You should never call pretty ladies by their first name unless they say so!" I had to let a small smile escape my lips at Finnian's behaviour, but I stifled the laugh that threatened to leave my lips.

"In that case Finney, I do say so."

"But Mister Sebastian said-"

"I know what he said," I interrupted, holding up my hand to stop him. "But in this case, seeing as I am the subject of the order he gave, my opinion overrules his. You may call me by my first name – it would be a nice change to all the formalities in this household." Finney's face lit up like a firework then, and he smiled sheepishly. Baldory let out a grunt before carrying on speaking.

"As I was saying, Esmeralda, I don't see why Sebastian thinks I need your help. Don't get me wrong, you look to be a brilliant cook; but I can manage on my own." His voice was gruff, but I could tell the man was simply being defensive. I expected the kitchen was the only place that he really had complete control over – Sebastian seemed to run most of the mansion – so I could only guess that he felt threatened by the presence of a cook greater than himself.

"Because Baldory, I can cook a perfectly edible meal without setting half of the manor on fire. Whilst I agree with you on the fact that flamethrowers are wonderful things, I do not think that they are very efficient when trying to cook dinner for the young master." Finished with the saffron, I replaced the top back onto the container and made sure it was secure. "And apparently, Sebastian is too busy with some problem involving the Earl's temperature to do this task himself." Honestly, it was unbelievable how much the young Lord had Sebastian wrapped around his little finger. In actual fact, it was almost creepy. "But, never mind." With my hand coated in fat and pig juices from rubbing the spices onto the pork, I went to wash my hands, but not before turning around to face the two male servants. "Finney, catch!" I softly ordered before throwing the tub of saffron in his general direction.

Big mistake.

Oh no, the boy caught it – that wasn't the problem. The problem was the fact that when he caught it, he somehow applied enough pressure to the glass bottle via his hands that the entire thin shattered upon his clasping onto it. There was the undeniable sound of breaking glass, and the brief glitter of shards flying this way and that. Raising a hand instinctively to my eyes, I winced when a few specks of glass embedded themselves into my stockings. _How hard did he catch it if the glass broke that badly and travelled so far?! _

"Ow!" I heard Finney groan, and with careful moments, I removed my arm from its place in front of my face. The floor sparkled as it was coated with shards of broken glass, like particles of ice had been sprinkled across ground. But what instantly caught my attention was not the wincing from of Finney, nor the scattered spice spread all over the place. No. What caught me was the _**smell**_. Not the smell of the saffron – oh no, this was much more wonderful.

A rich, intoxicating smell that pulled at my nostrils with tempting wafts of air floating into my head; something that caused me to drool with animalistic hunger. Licking my lips involuntarily, I felt my stomach do several summersaults. Trying desperately to find and focus my eyes on whatever it was that was causing this dreamy aroma to come to exist, I soon came upon the source. Though I regretted ever looking in the first place, for it was not what I had wanted, yet what I had partially expected.

_Poor Finnian had cut himself. _

The glass container had been in his hand when it broke, and most of the larger chunks of glass had decided to nestle themselves within the skin of his hands. Wondrously thick crimson liquid ran down his pale digits, dropping unceremoniously onto the floor with the soft pitter-patter one might expect fro a calm April shower. It continued to flow as his arteries continued to pump the fluid out, and when my eyes became transfixed on the sight of the luscious liquid, I knew what was wrong with me. Why I kept getting annoyed at every little thing Sebastian had been doing, why I suddenly decided to dance with Undertaker at his shop, why I was having one too many mood swings. Fortunately, I wasn't pregnant – the answer was far simpler.

_I was hungry. _

_Oh so hungry. _

You see, when Vampires are first blooded, their lust for blood is immensely powerful. 'New Bloods', as we elder Vampires call them, must feed constantly and regularly for several years before their hunger dies back a bit. The older you grow, the more your need for blood dwindles. But even then, you must feed when the urge comes upon you – we need blood as humans need water. It gives us strength, makes our minds sharper and improves us overall. Of course, some Vampires such as myself simply lead such busy lives that we quite honestly forget to feed most of time. And that was where the problem came in that I was currently having.

You are human, correct, dear reader? You are aware of the feeling you get when you thirst for a beverage. Your desire starts off small, but over time it grows until you would kill to have your thirst sated, am I right? You grow desperate for a drink, for anything, to the point you cannot think about anything aside from the fact that you must quench the burning thirst you have. The same goes for us – the longer we go without blood, even the eldest of us, the more animalistic we get when it is finally offered to us. So, let me simplify my dilemma so that you may understand.

A small, young boy with bleeding hands was standing in front of a five-hundred year old Vampire who had not fed in several weeks.

_Understand? _

Without thinking, I took a step closer to the young gardener, and I felt the crimson in my eyes begin to seep in at the edges. The shards of glass crackled underneath my feet, but I didn't hear over the roaring pound of my own heart and the burning lust for blood pounding inside of my head.

"I-I'm-I'm so s-sorry Esmeralda! I d-didn't mean t-to, I promise." Finney cried out, tears pooling at the edges of his blue eyes. "I was only-" He suddenly froze when I stood in front oh him, gazing down at him with glazed over orbs, a wave of ruby threatening to sweep across my vision. Slowly taking one of the boy's small hands in mine, I raised it gently towards my face, examining it closely. At such a range, the smell was almost overpowering, but unlike that putrid smell of flowers had been, this attack on the sense was one I warmly welcomed. Oh, the way the blood seeped through his fingers like the sands of time. My tongue once again swept over my lips, and I failed to notice the fact that I was actually bringing Finney's hand closer to my chapped lips. _Oh, just one taste-_

"E-Esmeralda? W-what are y-you doing?"

_Or not. _

Finney's scared and shaking voice was enough to snap me out of the hungry trance I had fallen willingly into, and with wide eyes I examined the terrified expression on his face. Realisation flooded through me all at once at what it was I had been about to do, and I felt instant disgust at the lack of self-control I had just shown. What on earth was wrong with me? Suddenly, and with sudden fear of myself and my actions, I dropped Finney's hand, jumping away from him as quickly as I could and clutching my hands to my chest. Finney continued to stare at me with wide glassy eyes, still incredibly confused, and Baldory had his narrowed gaze locked on me as well. Silence fell heavy upon us in the moments that followed, and when I finally stood up straight, I preyed for some sort of distraction, or for some sudden burst of wittiness to come to my whirring mind. But I was going to have no such luck, and when I felt the scent of young blood beginning to ensnare me once again, I decided I needed to get away.

"I..I…" The two servants didn't respond. "I need some air."

And with that, I raced from the kitchen in a desperate attempt to find sanctuary within the vast corridors of the manor.

"Any idea what that was all about?" Bard asked Finney when he had located the bandages in one of the kitchen's many cupboards.

"No idea," Finney replied, still slightly shaken from the look that Esmeralda had given him. "Her eyes became…almost glassy, like a dolls. And it was like she wasn't quite there – here, I mea- oh, you know what I mean." Finney said, giving up.

"Maybe she's got some sort of problem with blood, like it makes her faint or something? That would explain why she suddenly went pale and why her eyes went so wide." Bard replied, reaching for the gauze and tweezers to clean Finney's wound. He steadied himself, and carefully attached the tweezers to one of the protruding shards of glass.

"Now, be very still, or I'll tear the flesh if yo-"

BANG!

There was a loud crash as Mey-Rin tumbled in through the closed door of the kitchen, and Bard – with his tweezers still clamped down on the glass in Finney's hand – jumped several inches into the air. The glass came free from the boy's flesh, but increased the size of the wound by several centimetres, causing even more blood to freely flow. Finney cried out in pain, and Bard cursed when he had regained his composure. He quickly wrapped Finney's hand up to stop the blood flow, and then turned angrily towards Mey-Rin.

"Bloody hell Mey-Rin! What do you want!?"

Said maid recoiled at Baldory's harsh words, but she quickly spoke up as to why she came.

"I came to find Miss Mandetta. Sebastian wanted to speak to her and told me she would be in the kitchen." Mey-Rin pressed her fingers together out of anxiety, upset that she had caused Finney pain, but it wasn't her fault she was clumsy. Bard sighed loudly, resting his head in his palm.

"She left a few minutes ago – ran off after Finney hurt himself." He jerked his free hand towards the young boy who was sniffling quietly whilst Bard continued to tend to his hand. "I think she's a bit faint when it comes to blood – she's probably hiding somewhere in the manor." With that Bard waved the maid off, and Mey-Rin nodded in acknowledgement. She knew this manor rather well, and what rooms someone could possibly hide in – after all, when she and the others had failed to do their jobs correctly, they had hidden all over the mansion to hide from Sebastian's wrath. So Mey-Rin carefully closed the door behind her and left Bard with Finney, setting off along the carpeted corridors to find the snow-haired maid.

Crouched against the wall of one of the darker corridors of the Phantomhive manor, I tried my best to catch my breath. My ankles were on fire from running so fast in these damned heels, and a think layer of sweat coated my skin, gleaming in the light of the few candles mounted upon the walls. Looking around, still gasping for air, I took in my surroundings. I did not believe I had even ventured into this part of the manor before, but I honestly had not been paying attention to where I was going – my only goal had been to get as far away from Finnian and the possibility of hurting him as was possible. For the love of God, who would have known what would have happened had I taken a drop of his blood into my mouth! I didn't even want to think about it for fear of making myself feel any queasier than I already was. My eyes began to flicker shut, what with the lack of blood and loss of energy causing my body to feel increasingly tired.

Oh, I felt so pathetic; sitting here in the dark, curled up and coated with sweat and self-disgust. A small burst of amusement left my lips in the form of a snigger, as I imagined the face of Sebastian were he to come across me in such a sorry state. However, I was convinced he was preoccupied with his master, and even if he wasn't, I believed he would have better things to do than prowl the darkened corridors of this endless maze that was the Phantomhive manor. Blinking, I took another look around the corridor, and realised I had in fact been here before. The shadows and my confused state had simply distorted my vision. This was the corridor on which my room was located. That sent a burst of hope and relief flooding through me. If I could just get to my door and claim sanctuary inside of my room, than I could possibly be left alone until dinner if I was quiet. It would be better than wallowing in self pity out here in the open anyway.

With a new goal in mind – one that did not involve drinking teenage boys' dry of all their blood – I stumbled to my feet, and focused on my door several meters down the corridor. Smiling slightly, I wobbled forward, using my hand to guide myself along the expensive wall-papered wall. As my door got closer, I wondered how on earth I would explain my absence to Sebastian later, but I figured that was of the least importance right now.

That was when the door I had been resting besides opened up, and a dark haired head poked itself around the door frame.

Literally, speak of the devil…

"Esmeralda, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be tending with your chores?" Sebastian's voice was the last thing I wanted to hear right now, but when I turned around to send him back a witty remark my knees buckled from surprise, and my mouth fell open in shock.

I guessed that Sebastian did actually have time to spare away from his Master – at least, enough time to bathe. For there he was, leaning casually against the door way in nothing but a pair of tight black trousers, a dark drying towel wrapped loosely over his shoulders, wet black hair falling down across the front of his face, shielding his dark eyes from the light of the candles. Crystal clear droplets of water found their way from his hair onto his lean chest, the beads of liquid proceeding to run down the natural crevices of his body that were created by the sinewy muscle that was the product of many years of existence.

I had to physically force my mouth closed.

_What? I may not like Sebastian and wish to kill him, but that doesn't mean I have to deny the fact that looking at him is the equivalent of making love to your eyes. _

Trying once again to say something, I took a step forward, only for my feet to fall out from beneath my form as the presence of Sebastian in his current state and my never-ending hunger became far too much. I fell towards the carpet, head spinning and vision blurring, causing Sebastian to reach out with a sudden jolt. My body hung in his arms like a puppet before its master, and the forced of my entire body slumping into his grasp had caused my face to become buried against his chest, my lips against his fine porcelain skin. Peeking up at him with partially closed eyes, I saw confusing flicker across Sebastian's face before he carefully and quickly looked along the corridor to see if there was anybody else nearby. When he saw the coast was clear, he reached down and scooped my form into his arms, an action I would have both verbally and physically protested at had this been any other time or situation – but my body seemed to have shut itself down.

I did not protest when Sebastian took me into his room, nor did I protest when he placed me gently down upon his bed, the dark purple and black of the covers contrasting greatly against the pale tone of my hair. I sat up against the head bored, groaning at the pain rattling around in my skull. Sebastian pulled the damp towel from around his shoulders and bought it down towards my face, sitting next to me on the bed as he did so, the added weight causing my form to slide towards him slightly. In one swift movement he had the towel raised and was holding it against my burning forehead. I welcomed the coolness of the cloth, but when I breathed in, it wasn't just the damp I smelt – the scent that could only be defined as Sebastian infiltrated my senses as well, and I suppressed a shudder.

"Esmeralda, what happened? You look as though you've been on the Romanian wine again." Sebastian questioned, eyebrow raised. I didn't open my eyes, instead opting to answer him with them closed and shielded from the tempting sight of Sebastian and the light of the manor that had become far too bright all of a sudden.

"I almost drank Finney dry, that's what happened." I responded, sighing.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I ALMOST DRANK THE POOR BOY'S BLOOD! THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED!" I yelled. Rubbing my temples after I had calmed down, I explained further. "He cut himself on some glass, and I haven't fed for a while – a long while. Put two and two together, Sebastian."

"Ah."

He was silent for a few moments, and I peeked at him from behind the strands of hair that had come loose in my outburst. He seemed to be contemplating something, and I found myself studying him as I watched the cogs in his mind turn, trying his best to find a solution to whatever problem it was he was mentally asking himself. Sighing, I cleared my throat to bring him back to the real world.

"Hmm?"

"Sebastian, what is it?"

"Oh, I was just thinking for a solution to your little problem."

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"How do you usually feed?"

"When it's this bad? I usually have my blood imported in bottles, Sebastian. It's classier - I don't just pick strangers off of the streets."

"Yes, well, I don't see any bottles of blood around here, do you?"

"No."

"So you're going to have to feed from someone, aren't you?"

"Maybe, but even I that was my last resort, who?"

"Me."

And that I feel silent.

It had been several months since I had fed from a human, at least, physically. Normally, I had my blood delivered to my doorstep disguised as fine wine – they were usually the same colour after all. When feeding off of humans, it was like playing with a dog – you don't know where they've been, what they've been doing, if there are dirty, etc. I preferred to drink the clean blood of Nobles rather than the runny liquid of peasants, though when I was this desperate, I didn't really care where the blood came from, as was the case with Finnian.

But feeding off of Sebastian? That was ludicrous! Preposterous! Unbelievably stupid! Aaaaannnd the only option I had. I couldn't very well feed off of one of the servants and reveal to them my true nature. Neither could ask Ciel for permission to leave the manor for the sole reason that I simply had the urge to such someone dry of the very substance that coursed through his own young veins. So, that left me with Sebastian.

God really was cruel wasn't he?

Desperately, I scanned my brain for any other option I might have that would save me from becoming stuck in a situation I desperately didn't want to. Surely, there had to be some way out of this-

"You know you don't have a choice Esmeralda." I glared at Sebastian for interrupting my thoughts. "And besides, it is not like this will be the first time such a thing has happened." Unfortunately, he was right, the bloody bastard. He knew he had me at a stalemate, and that I only had one choice. Him. Sighing in defeat, I threw my hands up in the air in annoyed agreement. Sebastian chuckled, and then shifted so that he was sitting back against the head bored, parallel with my body. I looked at him, puzzled, but he simply chuckled again before slipping an arm around my waist and flipping me over towards him – causing me to straddle his thighs with my hips. My eyes widened when I realised the position we were in, and a scowl came upon my lips when he smirked. When he pushed me forward a bit more so that I was resting atop his hips, I put a hand forward against his chest to steady myself, and I cocked my head to the side when I realised he was still wet from his bathing.

"Aren't you going to dry yourself Sebastian?" I asked cautiously, wondering why he was still smirking.

"Surely it will be easier for your fangs to penetrate the skin if the skin is smooth and wet, not tough and dry?" Again with that damn smirk.

"That maybe so, but I don't want to get the front of my maids uniform all wet – if it goes see through I believe that the majority of the household with have a heart attack." I narrowed my eyes at him, awaiting his answer. He just chuckled, and I waited patiently.

"I believe I have the answer to that, Esmeralda." His hair concealed most of his eyes from view as he looked up at me from under his mop of hair, giving him a sinister appearance of what he truly was.

"And what is that?" I wished I never asked.

In an instant, Sebastian had unbuttoned all of the buttons on the top half of my dress, proceeding to tug it over my head and throw it onto the arm chair near by, petticoats and all. He did it all so quickly I didn't even know what was happening, until the cold air of the manor pricked at my arms. Left with a pair of stockings and a tight corset to conceal my modesty, I glared daggers at Sebastian before I noticed that he had tilted his head to the side, exposing the puling vein that contained his wonderful, pulsing, intoxicating blood. Animal instincts taking over once more, I leaned towards him until my lips just ghosted over the pale flesh of his throat. I attached my lips to the skin and suckled softly, feeling his pulse pick up underneath his skin. My fangs began to grow forth from their hiding place within my gums, and I nibbled ever so slightly on the vein, just scratching the surface of the skin. My tongue flicked out to feel Sebastian's pulse, but I frowned when I heard the briefest moan come from his mouth. I did hope he knew this meant nothing – he was simply helping me out in my time of need.

Deciding now was not the time to question him on it; I went back to the task lying before me, quite literally. Skimming down his throat towards his shoulder, I found the place where his collar bone met with the flesh of his neck, and years of experience allowed me to find the throbbing vein rather quickly. My lips latched onto the skin above before sucking gently, making sure the skin was tender and ready. My tongue ran over the red target mark I made on his pale flesh, the saliva I left behind acting as way to soothe the pain slightly and to make the skin easier to penetrate. Slowly, as though to test him, I placed my fangs softly into Sebastian's skin, not quite breaking the skin but leaving a small dent in my wake. When there were no cries of protest from his mouth, I decided to go ahead and take a nice big juicy bite, but not before I gently kissed the area I planned to attack. I don't know what came over me in that one moment, but in the next my fangs were buried to the hilt in his perfect skin, and Sebastian cried out softly.

"Oh, Esmeralda."

But I was far to preoccupied to notice. Neither did I notice when he wrapped two, strong arms around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. I was far to busy with concentrating on the precious and delicious liquid spilling into my mouth and sliding down my throat. It was sweet and thick, like honey, but with a sharp yet welcoming after taste. _Oh, how good it felt._ It was as though I had been stuck in a desert of desperation, and this blood was the drink that held the key to my salvation. Sebastian moaned again when I shifted my fangs slightly, but everything around me felt like a vacuum, and behind closed eyes, my vision was an explosion of brilliant crimson and eternal black. Greedily, I wrapped my arms tightly around Sebastian's neck, wrapping one hand in his still damp raven locks. In retaliation to my action, I felt a pair of lips of my earlobe, and a nose bury itself into my hair, and I knew it was Sebastian. But actually, it didn't matter that it was Sebastian. I was getting what I wanted, and that's all that mattered at the current moment.

Mey-Rin searched the corridors of the manor with a bored expression. Esmeralda hadn't been in the library, or the study, or the cleaning cupboard, or the cellar, or the pantry, or the- well, you get the idea. So Mey-Rin guessed she would check Esmeralda's room. It was the last place she could of think of that she could be hiding, and honestly, Mey-Rin wanted to get this task done and over with as soon as possible. Because maybe if she completed it in record time, Sebastian would notice her impressive speed and maybe even compliment her! Oh, how she wished that would happen! The maid's face turned red just thinking about the devilishly charming butler in black, but then her face turned sour when she thought of Esmeralda. It wasn't that she didn't like the new maid – oh no, quite the contrary. It was nice to have some female company in the manor for once aside from the over enthusiastic Miss Elizabeth. But the way Sebastian looked at Esmeralda sometimes… well, it was enough to make Mey-Rin wish he would look at her that way, just once. And what was the worse part, was that Mey-Rin knew that Esmeralda was completely oblivious to the way Sebastian felt about her. Mey-Rin wouldn't be, oh no! If Sebastian gave her any attention, she would return it as best as she could. Oh, and to hear him say her name – just one time. She imagined how it would sound, all breathy and husky, like chocolate poured onto velvet. It would sound like-

"Oh, Esmeralda!"

Mey-Rin stopped. No, it wouldn't sound like that. Her name wasn't Esmeralda. Confusion flooded her face as she tried listening for the sound again, to see if it was just her over imaginative mind combined with her wishful thinking. But surely if that was the case, the voice would have said "Oh, Mey-Rin"? But it didn't so…

There was another brief moan, and this time Mey-Rin knew it wasn't one she imagined. Turning ninety degrees to the right, the red-haired maid saw that she was in front of Sebastian's door which was partially open. She jumped about six inches into the air when she realised where she was, but she quickly slapped her hand over her mouth before she squealed out of excitement. The majority of her mind told her to walk away now and not turn back, to just carry on with her chores elsewhere in the manor. But the curious part of her mind, the part that loved ghost stories and mysteries, was telling her to just take a quick look through the crack between the door and the doorframe. So, as quietly as she could, and being exceptionally careful not to be clumsy, Mey-Rin edged closer towards the door and rested her hands against the wall as she placed her eye in line with the crack to allow her to see inside the room.

What she did see made her whole body turn green from envy, whilst her face turned red from the sudden nosebleed that occurred.

Mister Sebastian was laying back on the bed in nothing but a pair of rather tight black trousers that outlined the muscles of his legs. His torso was damp and his hair stuck to his face in messy strands and wet clumps. His trousers were sagging slightly off of his hipbone, but Mey-Rin couldn't tell for sure, because there was an object blocking her view. Or rather, a person.

Miss Mandetta sat straddling Sebastian in nothing but her heeled shoes, a pair of stockings and a far-too-tight and not-nearly-modest-enough corset. Her maid's uniform had been discarded over the arm chair some feet away, and her plump lips were glued to the skin of Sebastian's throat as she sucked away hungrily, her arms wrapped around his neck. Sebastian's face was buried into Esmeralda's soft white hair as his own lips latched onto her earlobe, and Mey-Rin could see his chest rise as he breathed in the scent of her flowing hair. His arms entwined around her small waist, pulling her closer to him.

But what set her off was when Mister Sebastian began rocking Esmeralda gently on his hips in his arms.

Stumbling back from the door in shock, Mey-Rin, quickly regained her footing, holding her nose and head tightly. She was practically glowing with jealousy, her glasses glinting dangerously in the candlelight. When her composure returned to her as much as it was going to, she quickly ran off, anger fuelling her speed, causing her to run faster than the demons of hell. After all…

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

**A/N: Well, I think that went rather well, don't you?**

**I had an awful lot of fun writing this chapter, for obvious reasons. Oh, what have I done? I will be writing my own Vampire theology, meaning I will be creating my own rules for them, how they live, how their bodies work, but I promise I have thought it all through and I shall do a better of coming up with a new twist on them than the creator of Twilight did. (Sorry to all those Twilight fans out there, but you know…)**

**As always, I don't own Kuroshitsuji, nor any material related to any references made (I shall be using quite a few, as I cant come up with good ideas on my own, but can manipulate other's ideas to create something new) etc, etc. **

**Thanks for reading my story so far, and if you want to, why not rate, favourite and review? Pretty please with a sexy red head Shinigami on top? **

**Byeeee!**


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